Tales from the Rock
by Fenice di Fuoco
Summary: Set on a case scenario where Joffrey never dies, Tyrion Lannister is granted Casterly Rock with the sole purpose of giving it an heir. And so Sansa Stark assumes the role of the new Lady of the Rock, and is now trapped in the very heart of the lion's den. And though she is willing and excels to fulfill her duties as lady of the castle, will she ever bring herself to love the strang
1. Casterly Rock

She had been given the luxury of her own carriage. It had windows on every side and the seats had been the most comfortable and kind for naps. The gold and velvet curtains made the inside take the hue of a sunset as the rays of the sun pierced through them. She had the entire caravan at her will… yet Sansa Stark had never felt more a prisoner than now.

She could not lie to herself any longer, it was not North to Winterfell they were riding to, but the West. To the Kingdom of the Westerlands. To Casterly Rock, the seat of the monstrous family that had taken her own father's head and now were in open battle with her brother Robb. And she, a lady of House Stark, was now married to the wrong side of this war.

The Imp had not been as mischievous as his tales told, though. Sansa was certain he had assigned different carriages for this journey so he could enjoy his time with whores, but at least he had not asked a single thing from her, and she was more than grateful for that. Yet deep down, Sansa knew her freedom wouldn't last for long. The whispers and rumours of Lord Tywin's wrath had traveled down the Gold Road with them, and haunted Sansa's dreams at night. The Hand of the King was desperate for an heir from his dwarf son and that duty fell upon her own shoulders. Lord Tyrion had not yet laid a hand on her, but he was a Lannister. She knew any night now he would sneak past her doors and claim her maidenhead.

Which is why, as soon as the sun set, everyday she would lock all doors and windows from her carriage and never ordered a single stop unless it was crucially necessary. She seldom went outside and had not seen her dwarf husband for weeks now. He had come multiple times to knock at her door, though, but she had never opened it for him excusing herself ill. Sansa knew her liberty was coming to an end now that they were riding past Lannisport, the largest city in the Westerlands.

She would no longer be able to hide behind the doors of her chambers as she had done in King's Landing. She was no one but the traitor's daughter inside the Red Keep, but now it was different. Now she was the Lady of the Rock, and so much was expected from her.

Sansa felt her fingers grow numb and her legs tremble when Casterly Rock came into view outside her window. She had to admit, in spite of the distance the castle looked grand, standing tall upon a colossal rocks where the sea waves ceaselessly crashed at its bottom. The silence of the air was filled with their sound and the chants of the seagulls flying high in the sky. The smell of salt soon welcomed Sansa to her new home.

When the caravan was passing the gates of the ancestral Lannister castle, only then Sansa noticed that almost no one had come to welcome and cheer to the arriving carriages. to welcome the new Lord of the Rock. _Who would ever cheer for an Imp if not in a dwarf show?_ Sansa thought bitterly, her heart somewhy shrinking with pity. She quickly shook the feeling away, for she could not let herself be fooled by another Lannister.

As quickly as a heartbeat, she was helped out of her carriage by Lannister stewards. The court of Casterly Rock was waiting for Sansa and Lord Tyrion at the entrance of the castle, and she didn't miss their suspicious looks seeing them come down from different carriages. Her dwarf husband lost no time in coming to her side to introduce her to this unknown branch of the Lannister family.

"Uncle Kevan," Lord Tyrion said to the man standing in the front of the group. He looked not past five and forty, but his hair had already faded into silver gray. Wrinkles were beginning to show upon his face, but Sansa thought he had kind eyes. _Careful, you are in the heart of the lions' den now, one false move and they shall all feast on your wolf flesh._ "Where's my dearest Aunt Genna?"

"Running errands in Lannisport. You know how she is, always keeping herself busy with something important." Lord Kevan replied with a tone of annoyance. He turned to Sansa, then, and politely smiled, "Lady Sansa, it is a great pleasure to meet you at last. My apologies that we couldn't make it to the wedding. It all happened too fast for us to arrange a journey in time. But you do look as radiant as all tell."

"My lord is too kind," Sansa replied with a smile on her lips yet none in her eyes. Lord Kevan introduced her to his wife, Lady Dorna, and his daughter of four, Lady Janei. To his nephew Lord Lucion Lannister of nine and his younger sister Lady Lanna. Sansa recognized a boy about her age with perfect blonde curls.

"Ah!" Lord Tyrion exclaimed approaching to the boy, who so kindly knelt to embrace his uncle. Sansa frowned at the sight, for she had never seen anyone so happy around the Imp. "Tyrek! I'm very happy to see you alive and sound in the Rock after that dreadful mob attack in the capital! How is your lady wife faring here?"

"It is good to see you too, uncle. And she is very well, waiting for us all inside for dinner"

"And can we please go now?" Little Lord Lucion asked impatiently, "I'm starving!"

"Lucion!," his little sister Lady Lanna exclaimed clouting his ear, "What will Aunt Sansa ever think of our manners if you behave like that?"

Sansa almost let a gasp out. No more than an hour had passed in Casterly Rock and she was already being called as one of them. While it was true she wanted nothing from the Lannisters, Sansa had long forgotten what being part of a family was. Back in King's Landing, people looked her down with disgust for her filthy traitor's blood. Yet here, they were all welcoming her with not a single hint of repugnance in their eyes. She tried hard not to, but the Lannister children reminded her of her siblings in Winterfell so.

The food was quite enjoyable and dinner didn't go as terrible as she had imagined. Though she had barely opened her mouth to speak, the Lannister family would not cease to talk her about the tales, wonders and secrets of the Rock. They were even kind to Lord Tyrion, who seemed to be having a magnificent time with the family he had not seen for so long. And he smiled and laughed like Sansa had never seen him do before. For a brief moment, she felt a deep pang of guilt that she, his own wife, would never be able to give him such joy.

Her thoughts were interrupted as dinner reached its end. Bidding everyone a good night, Lord Tyrion excused them both from the high table taking Sansa by the hand. Once they left the dining hall, she made sure to take it away from his. She saw him drop his head with a sad sigh and a very small part of her regretted what she did.

Casterly Rock was enormous as it looked from the outside. Its vaulted ceilings rose high with pride holding the multiple red banners with embroidered golden lions. Front of the main entrance, elegant stairs with velvet rugs led to the upper floors of the castle, and though she wanted so badly to hate the place, Sansa's curious mind could not wait to explore all its halls.

Once they reached the chambers, Sansa's mouth dropped open at their sight. They were much larger than their rooms from the Red Keep and even bigger than her parents' back in Winterfell. There was no sign of a Lannister banner or its colors in the room except for the lions carved onto the mahogany wood of the bed's canopy and the velvet curtains that hang from it. Sansa frowned at this. From what she had so far seen, Casterly Rock was not shy to show the arms and colors of its house in every of its corners. Then why were there none here, at the very room of its lord and lady? When Sansa approached the bed to test its fabric, her heart almost collapsed from beating.

Her Tully blue eyes teared in the spur of a second and her hand trembled as she ran a finger across a so carefully embroidered grey direwolf on the corner of her white pillow. She turned in utter shock to her husband who was standing beside the door with the tenderest smile upon his face, his eyes shining brightly looking sweetly up to her. Sansa was at loss of words, her tongue forgetting how to speak. If anything, that only made Tyrion smile even more.

After a long silence, realizing she had no will to speak, he put a hand upon the door knob.

"Sweet dreams, my lady." He said softly.

"Will you not stay, my lord?" she asked, her words making Tyrion's eyebrows rise high in hope and surprise. Sansa blushed only now realizing the implication behind her question. "I mean… These are your chambers too, are they not? I thought we'd be sharing a room as we did in the capital."

He pursed his lips in disillusion, "Do not take this by any wrong means, my lady, but I'd very much rather not sleep in a chaise lounge ay longer. No, these chambers all for you, Sansa, mine are just at the other end of the corridor if you are ever in need of me. I did make a vow to you, my lady. I won't share your bed until you want me to."

He raised his eyes to her, his pupils almost pleading her to say something that would make him stay. But she dropped her gaze to the floor, making him turn to leave in defeat. As soon as he set a foot outside her doors, Sansa gathered all the courage she could find within her.

"Tyrion… Thank you."

And so, the first weeks in Casterly Rock passed as quick as the flight of a raven. With Lady Genna Lannister still away, Sansa had not yet begun her lessons on her new duties as Lady of the Rock. So, with much free time to herself, she spent most of her days in the Stone Garden, which had a Godswood she could pray to the gods of her father. Sometimes, she visited the castle's Sept too, to pray to her mother's Seven to keep her and Robb safe.

She missed home, her real home at Winterfell. nd her family even more. But she could not deny that Casterly Rock had been nothing but comely so far. Lord Kevan and his wife treated her with kind respect and the children would not stop calling her auntie and showing her way around the castle. Sansa felt as adventurous as her sister Arya when they took her down to the dens of the Rock. They also showed her the way to the private beach down the castle, where she enjoyed her first setting of the sun upon the Sunset Sea.

She Seldom saw Lord Tyrion, though. He had been very busy as of late learning his own duties. But sometimes, he would join her in the mornings to break the fast or at night for dinner. To keep the rumours of their distance at bay, Sansa guessed.

But this night, she had it all to herself… or at least for a brief while. A knock softly called from her door.

"You may enter!" Sansa said sitting by the window of her solar that opened to the sea while she was practicing her needle skills.

Lord Kevan entered her room, and while Sansa received him with a smile, a sad and guilty look never left his face. Her heart jumped to her throat knowing something was amiss.

A knife to the stomach would have been kinder than the news he bore, and once they left his mouth Sansa could hear nothing but mumbles out of his apologies as her head began to spin. She turned back to her needlework, waiting for Lord Kevan to leave, and once he did she threw her embroidery away with all the little strength she had. For the first in a long time, she did not let her tears fall in silence.

She wept loud, her cries echoing through all the halls of the castle, and let herself drop to the floor, her sobs choking the air out of her lungs. What had she ever done to the gods for them to curse her in such way? Her family had been taken, and slaughtered, and now gone forever from this world. She was the last Stark, but without her pack she was nothing but a defenseless lone wolf trapped with the lions. Her tears ran down in streams of sorrow, leaving traces on her pale cheeks that looked like scars. And she cried, and cried, until her eyes grew red with pain and with no tears left to shed.

Still lying on the floor, Sansa crossed her arms at her shoulders and curled. Closing her eyes, she could pretend it was her mother's embrace. Oh, how she wished she could bring them all back. How could she ever live in a world without them? That thought made her open her eyes wide with an idea crossing her mind.

The sun was now half set against the sea, and down her window were pointy rocks and raging waves crashing against them. _It's such a beautiful sunset_, Sansa thought, standing on top of the window with her bare feet trembling against the cold stone frame. _Maybe they will make a song about me, about how the Imp's wife flew from Casterly Rock_.

But the thought of her dwarf husband brought her back to her senses, and she frowned with anger at the distance. No, she would not let another Stark die at the mercy of a Lannister once more. He had most likely known about this all along, and didn't even find the courage to bring her his own horrors himself. Every fiber in her body was filled with hatred and her heart was in such angry determination that she was barely thinking what she was doing when she packed her most valuable possessions in a small trunk, waiting for the moon to set high in the sky and for the last candle to be blown inside the Rock.

Sansa thanked silently for all the secret passages the Lannister children had taught her, and moved with careful steps to avoid being seen by any of the guards. With a hooded dark cloak, she covered most of her face. Where was she going, she knew not. But as long as she was far from here, far from the Lannisters, she knew she would be fine.

Somehow, she managed to make it past the Lion's Mouth. She was finally out of the castle. Now all she had to do was find somewhere safe to stay. Yet only now, standing alone in the cold and dark of the night, Sansa realized how afraid she was of the possibilities that laid ahead. _I have to be brave. Brave like Robb and my Lady Mother, _she told herself closing her eyes, yet her body would not cease from trembling.

"You are leaving." she heard a voice say and gasped in surprise turning to realize she had been followed. And his words sounded more a statement than question. Lord Tyrion wore a cloak on top of his night robe, and the saddest expression on his face.

"How did you…?"

"I meant to visit your chambers when you left. So I lost no time to follow your steps. I wouldn't want you to go travelling by yourself. It is dangerous to go aloneー"

"Oh spare me, Tyrion Lannister!" Sansa spat, her anger fogging her reason and manners. He stepped back almost jumping in shock. "Don't pretend that you care when you orchestrated it all! This has been your plan all along, wasn't it? You are just like Joffrey and the Queen. You make me feel safe and wait for the perfect moment to take whatever little joy I have left! Why do you do this to me?! Why won't you all just leave me alone?!"

"Sansa Iー" Tyrion said, his eyebrows arched with sadness and a plea, "I did not know. My father didn't tell me or any of us hereー"

"You are a monster," Sansa said, each word filled with more hatred than the one before. And Tyrion gulped with hurt. _Good,_ she thought, _let him know what my pain feels like._ "You took everything from me!"

Her voice cracked with sobs and her knees collapsed to the ground. Not even her body could cope with all the sorrow inside her heart.

"Sansaー" the Imp said approaching her with slow steps, his hand reaching out as if he were to tame a wild beast.

"Don't you dare come near me," she warned lying helplessly on the cold moist ground.

Yet Tyrion kept walking towards her and placed his hand upon her shoulder.

"I said go away!" She growled, her voice echoing through the air; and shoving his hand away, Sansa slapped his face with such strength that he was thrown off balance to the ground.

"Sansaー" he went on, and her fists balled with irritation at the sound of her name in his voice. _Why won't he just let me be?_

Forgetting the lady she was, Sansa flung herself upon him wild as a wolf and slapped him once more, and once again, until her palms burned red. And yet, he never moved, allowing her to let all her rage out against him.

"You knew it…" she said giving up on him and brought her knees up to her chest hiding her face between them. His face was red and sore, and blood streamed down his now broken lip. Defeated as he was, Tyrion brought his small body back to his feet and moved towards Sansa, who had little strength to reject his embrace.

"You knew it," She continued to say, placing her head against his chest and hitting him with weak fists. "I hate you, Tyrion Lannister. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!" Maybe if she said it loud and over again she would end up believing she truly did.

"Sansa, I'm sorryー"

"You knew it."

"Sansa listenー"

"You had known about it all this time."

"_SANSA STARK, YOU LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW!"_

And as he grabbed her by the shoulders, Sansa was silenced with surprise. He had never raised his voice like that to her before, and his eyes glowed against the dark, begging for her to listen. So she spoke no more, and looked into his honest eyes.

Tyrion noticed her shock and calmed exhaling a deep breath. "I promised you, my lady, I promised I would not ever hurt you. You may love me not, but I put the cloak of my protection about your shoulders. All I have done since we were joined under the eyes of gods and men was try to keep you safe. Try to return a smile upon your face. Why, Sansa, would I ever do this to you? My father, Joffrey, Cersei, they are vile and cruel, yes. But, my lady, I beg you to believe me I am not like them and I shall never be.

"I breathe the same air you do, I laugh and cry and enjoy lemon cakes quite as much as you do. And I am your husband, Sansa, and I vow that while I live by your side, I shall bid my best on keeping you from any further pain. I know I cannot offer much, my small arms can barely lift a longsword. But there must be something I can do. So please, my lady, _let me try_."

She could only see the truth in his pleading eyes. Why was he so kind to her? What could he ever gain from her likes? _Tyrion may surprise you,_ Margaery's voice echoed in her mind. Sansa's sobs returned to her throat and tears to her eyes.

And she wept until the sun rose. She wept hiding under her husband's arms.


	2. Nightsky

A loud gasp broke the silence of her chambers, as Sansa Stark woke in the middle of the night with tears falling down her cheeks. The Red Wedding, they were calling it, and in spite of how far she was from the Twins, the details of that dreadful evening had travelled all the way to Casterly Rock. So now, her mother's open throat and Grey Wind sewn upon her brother Robb's body haunted her dreams. It has been a week already, and not a single night had passed without the horrors of nightmares.

And she would never drift back to sleep. Her eyes felt heavy during the days and dry from all the tears shed the night before. Her appetite was lost to grief and not even the taste of lemon cakes would stop her from vomiting as soon food touched her mouth. She felt miserable, and trapped. And did not want to stay in her chambers tonight.

Sansa stood from her bed and walked towards the window of her solar thinking where she could go. The Sept closed at night, the Stone Garden was always fully guarded and any other room inside the Rock would have the banners of the House that had betrayed her so. She did not want to see any lions at least for this one night. With her eyes searching outside her window, she found her answer on the waves that met the far shore.

The Private Beach of Casterly Rock was lit by no torch nor guarded by any soldier. I was a frigid night, yet Sansa was grateful enough for the solitude it offered her. She ran her pale fingers across the sand and closed her eyes. In this cold, she could pretend she was back in Winterfell, and that it was snow resting on her palm. But the loud sounds of the waves of the sea crashing on the land didn't make her feel at her long lost home.

She didn't mind them, though, she quite enjoyed the sound. Sansa hoped one day they would wash her pain away as they wiped any footprint from the sand. When her tears dried, she lifted her eyelids to the sky to meet the stars. _There are so many_, she told herself and raised a hand up into the air.

"So pretty…" she murmured, lost in her thoughts.

"Not nearly as pretty as you, my lady."

Sansa jumped in a gasp, startled by being caught off her armour. She had been certain no one saw her leave the castle, and blushed at how foolish Lord Tyrion must have thought she looked talking all by herself. Yet her dwarf husband made no such comment and sat on the sand by her side, keeping a very careful distance. She couldn't help herself from staring at him in utter confusion, but Tyrion kept his eyes up to the nightsky.

"In clear nights like this they shine brighter than ever," he said pointing at the stars. His eyes widened finding something in the sky, "And look! There's the 'Sword of the Morning!'"

Sansa frowned trying to follow Lord Tyrion's sight. Maester Luwin had taught her every single house name, banners and words of Westeros, yet nothing about constellations. She knew the shape and name of none. Tyrion turned to her and immediately noticed it by her lost look. Sansa thanked the gods silently for the dark, otherwise he would have seen her blush red with ignorance. When she turned her eyes to his, she caught a glow on his pupils and a smile on his lips, and she felt her cheeks grow warmer.

With a gentle hand, Lord Tyrion reached for hers and raised it to the sky, his touch never leaving her skin.

"There," he said as he guided her finger to the pattern in the sky, "do you see it now?"

Sansa narrowed her eyes following his hand… _Ah._

"I see it now!" she exclaimed straightening herself a bit higher from the ground as the shape of a sword came to view amidst the stars. And she smiled ever so widely at her new discovery. So entertained by the sky, she did not notice how Tyrion Lannister never left his tender eyes from her.

"The Sword of the Morning is a title given to the knight of House Dayne who bears the ancestral sword Dawn," he said, "only a knight who is deemed worthy of it is allowed to wield it."

All Sansa ever knew about knights was their chivalry from songs and poems, but now that she had left all those behind at the mercy of cruel Joffrey, history and swords seemed a much more interesting subject, and her husband seemed to know them all tales.

"Oh look! There's the 'King's Crown' too!" Lord Tyrion exclaimed, his eyes captured by knowledge and the night sky. "And the 'Moonmaid' too!"

And on and on he dwarf husband pointed at more stars telling all the stories that laid behind them. Without Sansa even noticing, she was leaning closer to Tyrion at each tale, making sure to be capturing every word from the sound of the crashing waves. She closed her eyes and smiled slightly. His stories had offered her an escape from her reality, and she was more than happy to now get lost up in the stars against his warmth.

Eventually, Tyrion grew silent, and Sansa opened her eyes abruptly only now realizing she had her head completely leaned upon his shoulder.

_Oh no, he must have been so uncomfortable that even his stories stopped._

Embarrassed with herself, Sansa straightened her lady back quickly and moved away from him, though she was sure to have caught a look of regret on his face. After a long silence, Lord Tyrion decided to speak again.

"Was it nightmares what woke you up, my lady?"

Sansa truly did not want to give much of herself away to the Imp, she was still not entirely sure she could put her trust on him. _He is a Lannister, you stupid girl, of course you can't trust him._ But the sky looked so pretty with the stars smiling brightly down to them. So for once, and only for this night, she let her walls down for him. A nod was all she could manage, though, but it was so much more than what she had ever given him from her armor.

"I know…" he said with a doubtful tone struggling to find the right words. He sighed and turned to her, "Sansa, you once told me you did doubted me when i said I know how you feel, and though you were not entirely wrong, you were not entirely right either… And I want you to know… I want you to believe me very badly, Sansa. That I can understand you and that with me you no longer have to act like a prisoner. And if anything, I am haunted by nightmares, same as you."

She couldn't help but feel her heart touched by his kind words. Words that had given her the courage to speak before her mind could stop her from so.

"Pardon me, my lord, but what could you ever have nightmares for?" she asked him, "You are part of the wealthiest house in Westeros and your own father is the Hand of the _King_. And now you have the Rock at your will. What else could you possibly need?"

He opened his mouth to speak and Sansa waited with eagerness for an answer, but she never got one as Lord Tyrion shut his lips regretting whatever he was to say.

"Sometimes all the wealth in the world cannot give one what they want the most Sansa." he said instead.

_And what is that?_ she wanted to ask, but she let him continue.

"I killed my mother at my first breath and she never lived to see my face, the little demon who took her life away. My father and my sister never forgave me for it, and as I grew they made sure to make everything impossible to me. Though I lived under his shadow, Jaime was the only one of them to ever show me love. And now he's lost somewhere if not dead. But all the mockery of the people for my size, the hate from my own kin… they haunt me as ghosts in my sleep. And Tysha too…

Sansa turned in confusion at that foreign name. She had not known any Tysha from the court nor anywhere else. Who was she?

"I know either of us wanted this marriage, Sansa," Lord Tyrion went on with a sad smile, "but I think it is past time we both realize that we are not going anywhere. So if I am to take this marriage as true as my vows, then I owe you all the truth in my world."

Sansa gulped. She wasn't sure she wanted to hear this, but at the same time she was growing impatient with curiosity.

"I was married once, long before you, my lady." he said, and Sansa felt her heart queerly skipping a breath. "Tysha was her name. I was only sixteen when me and my brother found her on the road back from Lannisport. She was being accosted by outlaws. While Jaime valiantly defied them, I took Tysha to the nearest Inn I could find. I fed her and we shared drinks, laughs and tales. And… well a bed and heat.

"And she sang to me," Lord Tyrion continued, his voice tender yet sad with memory, "She sand and I fell in love with the first woman I had ever had. We were married by a drunken septon with pigs to witness and our life in the little cottage by the Sunset Sea was the happiest of my times."

Sansa was very much entertained by his story, and could not possibly understand how it would ever go wrong.

"My father." Tyrion said as if answering her silent doubt. "He told me it had all been Jaime's plan. The outlaws, the inn, Tysha… he told me she was a maiden whore who worked for his coin. To prove it to me, he had me watching all his guards take her for silver." He stopped briefly catching his breath as his voice faltered and cracked filling tears upon his eyes. "But of course, that wasn't enough for the Mighty Tywin Lannister. No, he wanted me to learn my lesson for true. He… he had me… he had me take her last… for gold… Oh what a monster I am. What a pathetic little Imp who could not stand up against the orders of his father."

Sansa thought she should feel repulsed by him, yet her heart was for some reason filled with pity and her eyes with sadness.

"Ten there was Shae too, yes, your handmaiden. I had taken her from the Battle of the Greenfork and right when I thought she had fallen for me, she ran away with my coin moments before we came here to the Rock. So this is me, Sansa. A ridiculous dwarf who thought he could ever be loved in this world." He exhaled heavily, "A monster."

"No," Sansa replied before she could think about it, Tyrion raised his teary eyes to her in surprise. And this time, the waves of the sea were not loud enough to hush the hammering of her heart. Forgetting herself, she reached out for his face and wiped his tears away. Lord Tyrion had been nothing but kind to her so far. And after all he had shared with her, his demons and his darkest secrets, under this starry night Sansa decided to return his kindness.

"Joffrey is a monster, your sister a witch and your father the Seven Hells on the flesh. They have a wicked way of making us fall into their will. Gods, I even sent a letter to Robb begging him to bend the knee to Joffrey for the Queen's sake!"

She thoughtlessly traced a finger down his scar. Under the light of the stars, it didn't look as gruesome, and not even as monstrous as the rest of his family in King's Landing. Tyrion leaned into her touch and Sansa felt her tummy flutter.

That was enough to bring her back to her senses. Seven gods, what was she doing taking compassion for a Lannister! She had to know better, they had fooled her enough. She must be stronger and smarter now. If she was to drop her armor again, next thing would be her having a crossbow bolt to the heart while having dinner in her chambers.

Clearing her throat, she drove her Tully eyes away from the Imp and gathered her skirts to stand, shaking any trace of sand she could from them.

"If you please, my lord," she said coldly slipping back into her walls, "the hour grows late and I would like to be excused and return to my room."

She did not wait for his response and quickly walked away back to the castle.

"Sansa…" Tyrion added stopping her in her tracks. "I also want you to know that after we were united under the Seven, I have not taken any other woman." and after all this sadness he still managed to look up to her and smile. "And I shall keep my vows true, now and forever."

Knowing not what to reply, Sansa turned before he could notice a hitch in her breath. Yet once she was far away, she did turn to see him, her eyes doubting with regret. Her little husband had not moved from his place, and his head had dropped hopelessly towards the sand. His sobs fading with the waves and the nightsky.


	3. Lannisport

She didn't like to admit it in her mind, let alone out loud, but Sansa was growing used to living at Casterly Rock. She was welcomed to every new morning with kind rays of sun coming through her windows and the waves of the Sunset Sea crashing the rocks beneath the castle. Servants were quick to bring the fast and she could not deny how delicious every meal was. There were always lemon cakes for lunch and honeyed wine in all three meals. Sansa was never one for drinks, but she couldn't help to enjoy the taste of this traditional wine from the Westerlands.

She was still tormented by nightmares every night, though, and the direwolf on her pillow would turn a darker shade of gray as her tears damped it. But it was reassuring to have it there, such a small detail was sometimes capable of luring her back to sleep.

Today, her handmaidens were helping her into her dress. She had to look more gallant than ever, for Lord Tyrion as taking her for the first time to Lannisport. He had said it was past time for the people of the city to meet the new lord and lady of the Rock and also Lady Genna Lannister would be joining them on the return to the castle.

As her te and seventh nameday was coming near, Sansa's new body was outgrowing all her gowns. Even so, she never said a thing, for she didn't want her gray wardrobe to be replaced with the red and golden colors of House Lannister. At least not yet.

With a soft knock at the door, her dwarf husband came into her chambers, and Sansa flushed red as her hair seeing how his mouth dropped at her sight. She was wearing the only dress that fitted her properly. A purple gown with embroidered flowers falling down her long satin sleeves. And her hair was adorned with northern braids that shaped into a rose at the back of her haid.

"My lady," he said tenderly bowing his head slightly and she replied with a curtsy, "the carriage is ready for us, we shall leave at your command."

It would never cease to surprise Sansa how much Lord Tyrion gave her. Usually, no man would wait for anything on his lady's orders, not even her father did so. Still, Sansa gathered her skirts and left immediately to the castle's gates with Lord Tyrion by her side. She was thrilled with excitement to see the second greatest city in Westeros and would not wait a second more to part.

Her lord husband helped her into the carriage that for this trip they would share. She sat across him, her sight never leaving the window and her fingers fidgeting trying to avoid as much conversation from Tyrion, but the little lord had never been a man given to silence, so he filled the journey with tales of Lannisport and his childhood at the Rock, and though she bid her best in ignoring them, Sansa was subconsciously captured by them all.

But Lannisport was far more beautiful than any tale could ever tell. The sun was high above the sky when they reached the city with no cloud to obstruct its path. But being this close to the coastline, the sea winds breezed away the heat, making the afternoon pleasant and enjoyable. Her gown and hair danced into the air and seagulls flew and sang above her head. Sansa closed her eyes breathing in the fresh scent of salt.

As she entered the main gates of the city with Lord Tyrion next to her and two Lannister soldiers guarding their backs, Sansa was marveled with the architecture of the place. King's Landing was nothing but messy streets and houses built upon the other attempting to hospitalize the vast amount of people that lived in the capital. Not to even mention the awful smell it had. Lannisport was the complete contrast. Its streets were cleverly organized and the air was clean and safe to breathe. All buildings had the same pattern giving the city quite an aesthetic look.

Walking through the main avenues, Sansa noticed how every businessman and customer came out of their stores, dropping all their activities to greet the lord of the Rock and his lady. Though some men bore expressions of mock and rejection, many more were the people that cheered as they crossed. The children waved, the women curtsied, and the men saluted taking off their hats of straw.

They spent their first hour walking in peaceful silence through the streets until they reached the Port. Sansa had never seen so many trading ships and fishing boats all gathered at the same place before, and she was truly enchanted by it. The docks were very busy as sailors loaded wooden packages in and out of their ships or readied their nets to set sail. Most of the working men did not even notice their lords passing by, yet those who did stopped their tracks with pleasure to recognize them. One was caught in such surprise at their sight that he tripped on his own steps and fell into the water.

Every eye in the city was so captivated by her that Sansa wondered if they had ever seen a person with auburn hair before, because no one in these lands seemed to be anything else than blonde.

Once they left the docks, Lord Tyrion took Sansa to Merchant Street. They were not holding hands or giving each other any sort of affection, yet nobody in the city seemed to mind as long as they were around. It was not everyday that the Lannister lords visited the city, after all.

Their first stop was a little flower shop, where even though Sansa insisted she should not bother so, the flower lady gave her a gigantic bouquet as a welcoming gift to the Westerlands.

"Don't you worry, my dear," she had said, "you are our lady and deserve nothing less from your people."

Sansa could barely mumble her thanks after that, her lips trembling. Her people belonged in the North and Winter was Coming and she was not with them. _But they are all so kind here_… she thought, and quickly made her way out of the flower shop unable to handle her confronted feelings anymore. And Tyrion followed, reading her like a book.

Next was a silk store an aged and rounded woman owned. She had kindly shown Sansa all the fabrics she had in stock, patiently explaining what each textile was made of and their origins. A dornish gray bedcover was quick in capturing Sansa's eye, but her mouth almost dropped to the floor when the lady told her its price.

She felt so bad for doing so, what right did she ever have? Yet the more she ran her fingers across the soft fabric and its embroidered flying birds, the more she cherished. So she turned to Lord Tyrion, her cheeks red with embarrassment and her eyes saying 'please'. But her dwarf husband was already giving the silkk lady his coin and looked up to Sansa with a wide smile. Seeing him this happy, anyone could forget about his size and scar for that smile… But shaking her head and thoughts away, she ran away from her confused feelings and store. Sometimes it was simply easier to give a blind eye.

They continued shopping throughout the rest of the afternoon… well, Tyrion was only following her around to be fair, and by the last store they entered their guards' hands were so full they could barely walk. Only then, Sansa realized how carried away she let herself be, and blushed. But Tyrion only chuckled her worries away.

"Come along now, my lady," he said, "we are already running late"

Sansa frowned down at him in utter confusion. "Late? Late for what, my lord? Weren't we to leave at nightfall?"

"Oh no, we are not leaving now. We are late to the play!"

"The play?" Sansa echoed still lost, yet her eyes glowed at the mention of a play.

"Why, dear Sansa, you wouldn't think I was to have you come all the way here to Lannisport and not take you to the ampitheatre! Now, no more questions, we are running out of time!"

Without much warning, he took her hand in his and dragged her as fast as his little legs could bear. To Sansa's surprise, Tyrion was quite fast, and he never let go of her hand until they reached their reserved seats.

The theatre had Sansa's mouth hanging open and unladylike in awe. The stage was surrounded by stoned steps that functioned as seats rising in the shape of a semicircle. And regardless from where anyone sat, the sound of the staged echoed everywhere equally.

Trumpets announced the beginning of the play and all the actors and singers began their theatrical adaptation of the Bear and the Maiden Fair. Forgetting herself, Sansa sang the lines she knew and laughed and hooted on her seat and almost teared up by the end, when the Fair Maid embraced at last her love for the hairy Old Bear. Such a happy ending… one she was certain she would never have in her life.

When all the actors bowed with gratitude to the audience, the play was called to an end. Everyone seemed so moved by it, and just then Sansa realized how much in need she was of entertainment.

"Thank you." she whispered leaning close to Tyrion.

He replied nothing, yet his lips curved into a victorious smile.

It was on their way out from the theatre that they stumbled upon two lords who wouldn't even have the decency to introduce themselves to Sansa. She frowned at their disrespect.

"Lord Tyrion," one said holding back a laugh, "It is good to see you back."

"Are you all set to fill the big shoes of your father, my little lord?" the latter said while the first chuckled.

Tyrion ignored that and walked past them, his lips pursing holding back his anger. Though Sansa followed, she couldn't help but glance back at the with disgust.

"Let them be," Lord Tyrion said noticing her.

Yet they kept murmuring, not as low for Sansa not to hear. "A dwarf Lord of the Rock? No, I tell you,, it is theatre shows where he belongs!"

And for some reason, she felt her blood boil with rage.

"Sansa noー" Tyrion said trying to stop her, but she had already turned on her heels, her steps a metronome of wrath.

"Pardon me, lords of what are you?" Sansa asked the two men, and when one of them opened his mouth to speak, she raised a hand to the air, "No one cares. But Lord Tyrion? He is the rightful heir to Casterly Rock. He will one day be the head of House Lannister and in case you have mayhaps forgotten, he will inherit the title of Warden of the West. Now, I would have suggested you to have some respect to him for your own good, but it is clearly too late for that. He will never forget about this, or at least I shall not. So farewell, my lords, and enjoy your goods while you have them."

Quickly as she came she turned her back to them not even giving the men time to react. And when Sansa faced Lord Tyrion she saw him staring at her in perplexion, not able to move a single muscle even when she walked past him.

"Well, aren't you coming along?" she asked turning back to him, "And close that mouth, Tyrion Lannister, or you'll let the night bugs fly into it."

Chuckling, he catched up next to her in quick steps. " You didn't have to do that for me, Sansa."

"And you shouldn't have let them talk to you like that. I know what it feels like, to be talked about behind your back. Everyone did so to me back in King's Landing. But I don't want that life anymore. For neither of us. And it is also my duty to the Seven to protect you. We did take a holy vow after all."

"Well, thank you ever so much, _wife_." Tyrion said with an amused smile and a tone of jape.

"You are very welcome, _husband_."

They both giggled, their laughter echoing through the streets of Lannisport.

As the sun began to fall upon the Sunset Sea, Lord Tyrion bought some food for both of them, and they sat on a bench looking towards the docks and the shimmering sea. With night covering the city like a purple mantle over the sky, the port wasn't as busy as during the noon and even the seagulls were flying back to their nests making dancing shadows against the orange sun. And Sansa and Tyrion sat in front of it all, enjoying their meal and telling stories of the past.

"I remember the first time my brother Jaime took me to sail a boat." Tyrion recalled, "I must have been nothing more than four years of age. It was a little boat my father no longer used, with a red sail and a golden crest with a lion on the top." he laughed a bit, "I remember at first try all commands seemed so confusing to me, and I ended up tangled in a mess of ropes. But when I finally gained control of it, it was of the best feelings in this world. When we sailed back to the shore, Cersei was waiting for us on the docks standing with her arms resting on her waist and a cross look on her face. She immediately ran to our father, and I was never allowed to sail again."

Sansa stared at him with pity eyes and he smiled bitterly. She realized Tyrion had also been a prisoner to his own family. Yes, he had done his share of bad in his life, but he was not entirely evil. All the rumours talked about a vile and vicious Imp, yet now, looking him under the sunset light, Sansa could see none of that.

"You know what I miss?" Sansa said out of the blue surprising even herself, "Stealing lemon cakes from the kitchens at Winterfell with my friend Jeyne and sneaking into the towers to eat them and gossip and tell secrets and cradle in each other's arms to sleep. I miss mocking my sister Arya and caring for baby Rickon and Bran, hugging my brother Robb, I even miss Jon Snow!" she raised her eyes thoughtfully to the sky. "Life was much simpler back then…"

Tyrion nodded in agreement.

They both continued sharing memories and laughing at them, their eyes glowing bright with nostalgy. Talking about his past, Sansa realized she had not known a single thing about her husband. She had been married to a stranger and had never given him the chance to introduce himself.

When the sun disappeared and the skies turned dark, all the ships and boats that were anchored by the port lit their torches, their flames lighting up like stars against the sea, and Sansa's eyes widened at such beautiful sight. One by one, more torches came to life, and she could feel Tyrion's gaze melting upon her reaction. So she turned to him, and for the first time lingered in his gaze without flinching once.

For that brief moment, they were neither a Lannister nor a Stark. Just Tyrion and Sansa. For that brief moment, there was no family history to divide them, and her heart fluttered.

But moments only last for so long, and when a cold wind brushed past them, Sansa was brought back to her senses. When she stood, her walls builded up again too, and so the armor that covered her heart.

"I think it is time to go, my lord." Sansa said, "It is getting cold and I'd rather not catch a cold."

"Yes, my lady." he replied, and she began at once making her path away.

"And, my lord?" she asked turning, her pulse hammering against her head, "May I have a carriage for my own on the way back?"

Tyrion's eyes grew wide with hurt. He nodded and looked to the ground. "Yes, my lady, I shall ride with my Aunt then."

Sansa bowed her head slightly with gratitude and walked away. She was certain to be doing the right thing, keeping her distance from a Lannister… Then why did her heart feel so wrong?


	4. Genna

That morning, Sansa was woken up by the sound of metal trays and dishes being placed on a table as her handmaidens entered to arrange the breakfast in her solar.

"Lady Sansa," one of them addressed her with a curtsy, "Lady Genna will wait for you in her chambers after you finish breaking your fast. Shall we come before to help you dress?"

Sansa, still feeling very sleepy, managed to give a nod, and at that the handmaidens were gone. She had barely rested that night as nightmares haunted her dreams once more, making her have an appetite for nothing but a glass of honeyed wine.

Once in her gray silk dress, a steward knocked against her door and helped her reach Lady Genna Lannister's chambers. It had barely been yesterday when the lady had returned from Lannisport with them and it had been no surprise to Sansa that she was already calling her for a meeting. After everything she had heard, it was infamously said that Lady Genna had the habit of never wasting a second in time, always straightforward speaking her thoughts out loud without minding the opinion of whomever might hear her. To be sincere, Sansa was scared to the bone, though Lord Tyrion had reassured her that she was the kindest woman he had ever met. But she was Lord _Tywin's _own sister, and a Lannister after all.

The steward helped with the door and Sansa almost collapsed in her tracks when she saw the face of Cersei Lannister waiting for her in the room. But upon a second look, this lady could certainly not be the Queen Mother. She was too… _Fat_.

Lady Genna had the green eyes and blonde curls of every Lannister. She had a broad and smooth face and an enormous bosom. Dressed in a gown of red and gold, she carried a cup of wine about her hands and smiled when Sansa entered the room. Yet there was a sort of threat hidden in her eyes.

"Sansa Stark of Winterfell," Lady Genna said and Sansa felt angrily bothered by a Lannister mentioning her ancestral home. "now, our new Lady of the Rock." she approached Sansa circling around her and running her fingers along her hair and dress. "Northern braids, no jewelry, gray gown and, oh gods you have already outgrown it! I understand you want nothing with us Lannisters, my dear, believe me I do. And I don't blame you for wanting to wear your house colors, but you are Casterly Rock's Lady now, sweet Sansa. It matters not whether you want it or don't, the title is yours. And as such, we cannot have you around like anything less."

"But, my lady, forgive me but you are not wearing your own husband's colors." Sansa said and blushed forgetting herself entirely.

Lady Genna grinned. "You have a sharp tongue underneath all that courtesy, Sansa Stark. Tell me, dear, have you ever seen my niece Cersei in any colors but her own? No, and she even married the _King_. A lion does not concern itself with the opinions of a sheep. We are a very proud house, see. And in a much more personal matter, I wouldn't give up anything for my inept husband and dress in the tones of House Frey. Let the Others take me before that happens."

_I'd let the Others take you both houses with much pleasure, my lady,_ Sansa thought. But there was something about the way Lady Genna talked about her husband that made Sansa shiver. Was she too destined too a life besides a man she loves not?

Noticing her lost in her thoughts, Lady Genna sighed. "Come, sweet Sansa, take a seat."

With doubtful steps, Sansa followed her into the balcony, and sat across her on a small round table. The place looked over the Sunset Sea carrying wild wind that made their hairs dance with the air.

"So, my dear," Lady Genna continued, "I was to begin with your training as a lady, but even now I can see that you have that mastered to the spine, high chin… Your Septa sure educated you well."

"She did, my lady. Though I never had the opportunity to finish my lessons with her because King Joffrey took her head and placed it next to my father's." Sansa replied surprising herself. Ever since Lord Eddard Stark was executed, she had learned better than to speak her mind. To hide her thoughts behind her armor and please whatever was expected of her. And above all, she should not open the feelings about her family to the Lannisters. Yet Lady Genna gave her a sense of trustworthy and she, for odd reasons, could not bring herself to hide the truth from her. "But it was my lady mother who trained me right and through. She had always said I was a lady at three."

"And I have no doubt of that nor of the fine job your mother did." Lady Genna said, her green eyes turning pale with sudden compassion. "Sansa, I am truly sorry for what happened to your family, believe me I do. Although it was all orchestrated by Tywin and Lord Walder, all of us Lannisters are seen as responsible for it while that is not the truth. Yes, my brother might be wicked, and so Cersei and her son; but not all of us are. I hope your life in the Rock will make you see that at some point.

"And Sansa… when they told me you and my darling Tyrion were coming here, that you would become our new lady, I was told you were of a weak mind and only did things as others bid. But I see none of that. I see a proud and resilient wolf. You have a strong personality, sweet Sansa, and seeing it for myself I now understand what my nephew said to me:" Lady Genna placed a hand upon Sansa's and looked with honesty into her eyes, "No lady is better fit for the Rock than you."

With her cheeks burning, Sansa wanted to look away. To take her hand from Lady Genna's and hide her face. She was sure Tyrion had not said that, and that Lady Genna was only trying to lift her spirits. But the gesture was kind nonetheless, and Sansa could not bring her eyes away. They were tearing up a little. No one had ever praised her for anything past her needlework. She had always thought of herself as stupid, empty and incapable. Joffrey and Queen Cersei had repeated that to her so that so, that she actually ended up believing them. And it felt so good, her soul fluttered with joy at the appreciation. Biting her lip, her heart acting before her mind, she squeezed Lady Genna's hand.

"Thank you," Sansa said low as a whisper, her voice cracking with emotion.

And Lady Genna offered her the warmest of smiles.

"Well," she said standing from her seat, "then let's get you started. For the next months you are to meet with me at this hour thrice a week. We will cover everything you need to know about your duties as Lady of the Rock. As for today, I shall take you to the Golden Gallery and the Hall of Heroes."

Sansa was exhausted after strolling around the Golden Gallery for hours that seemed eternal, learning about the wealth and treasures that House Lannister was so proud too possess. The Hall of Heroes was much more interesting, though. She learned about Lann the Clever and how he acquired the Rock from the Casterlys with nothing more than his wits and how Lady Johanna Lannister protected the gates of the castle from an ironborn sack. Some of the heroes' armors were on display as well as some swords. Sansa was fascinated with this history.

"Oh dear, we have so much time left to learn even more!" Lady Genna said once they finished everything making Sansa want to fling herself off the top of the castle. "Well I think I can take you to the hall of the lords and ladies of the Rock, you do need to grow familiar with all our faces after all."

And so they went to a colossal circular room in the heart of the castle. The floors were decorated with tiles of black and white marmol making the hall look like a giant chessboard, although it had no edges. The velvet curtains were drawn making the sunset light sneak in through the plain glass windows enclosed by frames of gold. The ceiling was rounded and carefully painted showing images of Casterly Rock, lions, Lannisport, and on the very top a golden chandelier fell gracefully.

Lady Genna guided her through the paintings of every single important Lannister that had ever lived. Starting from the right of the entrance, Sansa met the first members of House Lannister. And as they circled further to the left, the present times came into view. She recognized Lord Kevan, Lady Dorna, Lord Tywin, Queen Cersei and Ser Jaime. Tyrion was nowhere to be seen, though. The painting of an attractive and defined woman caught her eye.

"Who is she?" Sansa asked pointing at the frame.

"Her? Why, that is me! Or well… was." Lady Genna replied tilting her head to one side.

Sansa frowned in both confusion and surprise, her Tully eyes opening wide. "You? B- But.."

"B- Bu- But," Lady Genna imitated her in mockery. "Motherhood is not kind to every woman, sweet Sansa. After four children the beauty of my youth faded into this gruesome squared body." Noticing the look Sansa had on her face, Genna Lannister laughed out loud. "Oh don't you worry, my dear, the blood of Riverrun is in your veins, I doubt very much my fate will happen to you too."

Sansa silently let out a breath of relief she didn't realize she was holding.

The last painting was not even near the entrance to the hall, leaving space for all the Lannisters to come. It was the image of the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She seemed to be looking down at her, and Sansa felt her chest grow queerly warm. It was almost as if she knew her… why was she so familiar? Stepping closer to the painting, Sansa narrowed her eyes inspecting the figure. And then it clicked. She knew those eyes all too well, those were Tyrion's eyes.

She turned to Lady Genna, "Is sheー?"

"Lady Joanna, yes," she replied with a nod and walked next to Sansa, never taking her eyes from the painting. "One of the most brilliant and beautiful and kind women I have ever had the pleasure to meet. And what a wonderful wife she was. My brother Tywin never bent to anyone's will but hers. Only Lady Joanna knew him truly, the only woman to ever make him smile. She is without a single doubt, the best Lady that has ruled the Rock so far."

Sansa said nothing, hypnotized by the woman painted in front of her. _How can I ever be as good as she was_…

"But you see, sweet Sansa," Lady Genna said breaking the silence, "there is room for far so many more. One day, Lord Tyrion's painting will be placed here. Yours by his side. And following, the ones of your children, the heirs to the Rock. How is that going, now that I mention it?"

Sansa blushed and stuttered in her words, "Heー... Tyー Lord Tyrion has been very kind, my lady… a-and gentle with me."

But Lady Genna only burst into laughs, "Oh dear, Tyrion is like a son to me, he has never been able to keep a lie from me. I know he hasn't claimed your maidenhead yet, which is very odd for any man of the Seven Kingdoms." Her voice turned more severe then, "But do listen, Sansa. I know you don't want my nephew, but one way or the other, the Rock will have an heir, if you understand what I mean."

The look she gave her made Sansa realize the implication behind her words, and blush read as her autumn hair.

"Lady Genna, Iー I… would never do that. I took a holy vow andー" Sansa's mind drifted to that night in the beach. _I shall keep my vows true, now and forever._ "And I couldn't do that to Tyrion. Ever."

Lady Genna's eyes glowed with what Sansa recognized as hope.

"You know, sweet Sansa, marriages can take two courses. You either end up falling for your partner or never get to feel anything for him at all. My own marriage was set on the latter path, sadly. But I'm not entirely sure about yours now…" She grinned, "But well! The hour grows late, you should go back to your chambers and rest."

Yet Sansa could not sleep that night, her mind not able to focus on anything else than the impossibility of her loving Tyrion Lannister, for how could it ever be…


	5. Nameday

Morning welcomed her with the abrupt opening of her doors and the air being knocked out of her lungs as three children jumped on top of her.

"Happy Nameday Auntie Sansa!" they all exclaimed in unison.

After a month of intensive lessons about her duties in the Rock, Sansa's ten and seventh nameday had finally come.

And though she had tried her best in keeping her distance from the Lannisters, all her efforts were in vain when it came to these children. They were always chasing her during her free times and begging her to play with them, and she always gave in. They reminded her of her younger siblings very much. Little Lucion was as adventurous and skilled with the wooden sword as her sister Arya. Lanna was always living in a daydream as Bran used to and Janei needed as much attention as little Rickon did. True she wanted nothing from the lions, yet these children somehow made her feel connected to the family she had lost.

Rubbing the sleepiness from her eyes, Sansa straightened her back against the headboard and giggled as the kids kept jumping and hooting and diving to hug her.

"Now now, children, you don't want to choke your dear aunt on her very nameday, do you?"

Sansa turned to see Lord Tyrion standing by her door with a grin and gentle eyes. Next to him, Tyrek Lannister came into view carrying a large wrapped box. Lady Genna followed behind him and stood next to Tyrion resting a hand on her hip.

"Forgive them, sweet Sansa," she said breathing a tired smile, "I told them you were resting and should not come in until you changed from your night clothes. But they just couldn't wait to give you their little presents."

"It is okay," Sansa replied with a smile brushing some blonde curls away from Janei's forehead. Lord Tyrek walked to her bed placing the box on top of her legs. "Very well, then," she said playfully to the children, "what do you have for me here? Let's see…"

And when she unlaced the golden ribbon and opened the box, the first thing she picked was a drawing. It was a very messy work with quill splattered all over, wrinkles on the page and painting placed out out of the lines. Yet Sansa's eyebrows arched with tenderness, her mouth melting into a fond smile. It was a drawing of her with all three of them. All the characters had different sizes of heads and bodies and feet, but she could see the great effort they had put on it.

"The three of us did it!" Lanna said, "Do you like it, Aunt Sansa?"

Looking down at the drawing, Sansa laughed imagining all three fighting to work o the same piece of paper at the same time. _Yes, that might explain the splattered ink_. She looked up the kids smiling widely and her eyes glowing.

"I adore it."

"Well, go on!" Lucion encouraged, "There's more!"

Lanna had included a fine piece of her own needlework, Lucion a wooden toy he claimed to have carved himself and Janei a crown of Godswood leaves she made out of the ones she had picked with Sansa when she had accompanied her to the Stone Garden. Janei lost no time placing it atop her head. On the bottom remained a little velvet box.

"That is from me and my lady wife," Tyrek said standing next to the bed, a smile playing about his lips.

And when Sansa opened it, she couldn't help a gasp. Inside against the white fabric was a shiny brooch. She needed not to be a smith to know how carefully it was made. Made out of gold was the head of a lion roaring to the left and out of silver a direwolf howling to the right. Sansa brought her now watered eyes to the young Lannister Lord who was slightly smiling.

"You are Lady of the Rock now, yes, but one must _never _forget where they come from."

Sansa pursed her lips with tender, and right when she was about to thank him, she noticed how sand was leaking from the box like waterfall upon her bed and her eyes opened in confusion.

"Auntie Sansa," little Janei said with a guilty tone and look in her face, "You said liked the sand from the beach very much so I put some here too…"

After a short silence, everyone in the room burst into laughter. Even Lady Genna, though she brought a palm to her face all the same. And Sansa hugged Janei tightly, letting her know through her embrace how touched her heart was from all her gifts, for it had been a long time ago the last time she received one.

"Well, out with all of us!" Lady Genna said with a clap, "Aunt Sansa needs to break her fast but we'll see her again for lunch and the dinner party. Come along now, children."

And though they whined, the kids wouldn't dare to disobey the orders of their Aunt Genna. And soon, her chambers were emptied from everyone… except Lord Tyrion.

"Are you staying to break the fast, my lord?" Sansa asked standing from her bed.

"Yes, my lady," he replied attempting to hold back a smile, "but apart from that, I have some gifts of my own to give you."

Sansa's tummy fluttered noticing Tyrion had brought boxes to the room while she opened the children's. Piled up together in the table of her solar were four boxes. Looking at them and then back to her little husband, her eyes glowed with excitement.

"Well, they are yours! Open them!" he said laughing slightly.

She began with the largest one, and when she unwrapped it fully, a big book was revealed. The hardcover was blue and detailed with jewels on every side in the shape of stars. On the center, with silver letters, she read: "The Constellations of Westeros and Beyond." and raised her gaze to him hugging the book against her chest.

"Oh Tyrion, you didn't have to."

"Worry not, my lady, maybe someday we can read it together. Now, keep on going, there is more!"

The next two boxed had an advanced kit for needlework and a gorgeous hair net made of silver and rubies. The last box was very small in comparison with the others, and Sansa sensed a queer feeling coming from it. This time, Tyrion was the one to unwrap it, and held the closed jewelry box on his hands with all the care in this world. He opened it slowly, and inside was a golden necklace holding a pendant with the lion of House Lannister. Her heart grew too large for her chest as she recognized that necklace from the painting.

"This once belonged to my lady mother," he said softly, "I never met her, but all tales say she was the best lady the Rock has ever had." He placed the box upon her hands and kept his warm palms under them, his touch electrifying her skin.

"Tyrion… Iー" she stuttered, "I don't think I deserve this…"

"Sansa, you are my lady, and the lady of the castle. I can think of no one who could deserve it more." he replied and she melted into his eyes.

Whatever she was feeling in that moment was interrupted by her handmaidens bringing the fast. Clearing his throat, Tyrion walked away to his sit across her, neither speaking a single word during the entire meal.

Lunch with the Lannisters was more enjoyable than Sansa cared to admit, and once it ended Lady Genna walked her back to her chambers to deliver her gift. It was the most beautiful dress Sansa had ever received since her wedding day and was eternally grateful to Genna, who only winked at her suggesting she should wear it for the party. And how could she not?

The skirts were silver with embroidered details carefully done with red strings. The insides of the long sleeves were velvet and twisted inside out at the ends. The collar fell on the shape of a "V", making space for jewelry. Through the waist little pieces of rubies and silver had been attached. Her handmaidens helped her into it and braided her hair carefully making space for the hairnet Tyrion gave her. Once ready, her maids left her alone saying the guests were already ready for her.

But Sansa could not move from her reflection in the mirror. he didn't want to sound greedy or spoiled, but she truly looked gorgeous. She looked more a woman than a young lady, now. And she felt so proud to have a piece of home on the brooch that Tyrek gave her attaching a cape to her gown.

Placing a hand on her naked neck, Sansa walked to take Lady Joanna's necklace. Her fingers tingled with a strange sensation as she touched the pendant. There was something odd about it. Not something bad, though. It made her feel a rare connection to it. So she placed it around her neck, and taking one last look at herself, she left her chambers with a deep breath.

Ever since her time in King's Landing, Sansa had grown to hate public events filled with noble people. Even so, she could bot deny she was quite good in them. Her courtesies made it easy for small talk and fake smiles. But back in the Red Keep she was overseen by everyone. Now, as Lady of the Rock, she would be the center of attention. Her legs trembled as she stepped down the stairs into the Main Hall.

Tyrion was waiting for her at the very end of them, and behind him the room was filled with every single lord and lady of the Westerlands. This was to be her first noble appearance, after all, so they had all traveled eager to see the new face of Casterly Rock. And of course, that meant she'd have to meet and talk with all of them. _Oh what a long and exhausting night it will be,_ she told herself, _and my feet are already aching._ So when she stepped her way down and placed her hand in Tyrion's, the music and long hours of conversation began.

It wasn't as dreadful as he had imagined, though. Most of the lords were quite funny, and everyone praised at how radiant she looked. Sansa blushed red at every compliment. The children were also present in the party and she was very grateful for that, for they were the perfect excuse for distraction whenever she needed a break from it all.

At long last, when all the meetings were over, dinner was served, and Sansa sat between her lord husband and Lady Genna on the high table. The food was exquisite, and the cooks had strict instructions to make as many lemon cakes as they could, and Sansa enjoyed dearly her share of them.

As people finished their meals, most of the guests stood to the center of the hall to dance. After dancing with his lady wife, Lord Tyrek asked Sansa for a song, and Lord Kevan followed. It had been a long while since Sansa had last danced, yet er skills remained intact. And so, every lord asked for her hand and she danced through eternal songs, sweeping and turning and laughing, charming all the men that were granted the pleasure of a dance.

She wouldn't lie to herself, she was having a splendid time. Mayhaps she had a little too much honeyed wine, mayhaps that explained the reason of her funny happiness. In the middle of one dance, she turned to the high table to find Tyrion sitting alone with a sad expression on his face.

Without hesitation, and she thanked the wine for that, she walked over to him and extended her hand with a smile, her cheeks burning from her drinks. Tyrion looked up to her, his eyes big with surprise and his scar rising with his eyebrows.

"Myー... My lady,,, I can't dance, Iー" he said stumbling on his words and leaned closer, "I am a dwarf."

"Are you denying your lady wife from a dance, Tyrion Lannister?" she replied faking hurt in her tone, making Tyrion smile and place his hand in hers.

When they both walked to the center of the hall, everyone else ceased to dance, all eyes falling upon them. His cheeks flushed red with regret, but Sansa only placed his hand against her waste keeping the other in hers.

And she moved gracefully, soft and slowly, making him follow her dancing steps. She even bent for him to make a turn. She laughed to herself and he smiled. The rest of the guests did too, though not from mockery but for how adorable their image was, and they all joined them to dance. The Lady of the Rock, with her charm, had somehow changed the perspective of the people of the Westerlands on their Lord.

When the night reached its end, Tyrion walked Sansa to her chambers. But by then the effect of the wine had already passed, and she grew silent and awkward yet still grateful for it all.

So when Tyrion left her without saying a single word, she frowned. He never gave up on any opportunity to talk to her, why wouldn't he say anything now? Standing alone in the middle of her room, Sansa realized that all his chivalry had been nothing more than a mummer's show. A show to let the noblemen know that the Lord and Lady of Casterly Rock were in more than peace with each other. Oh what a fool she had been! _So he was only a Lannister after all_. But… why did she care this much?

Confused with herself, she threw her back against her bed and stared at the canopy. Her fingers found their ow path to the pendant she was wearing and lingered against the cold metal.

_Or maybe, _a stranger's voice spoke inside her mind, _he simply didn't want to be hurt again with you slipping behind your armor of courtesy again as it happens in all your conversations._

Sansa felt her chest grow heavy with guilt and her mind fogged with too many thoughts and emotions. Bringing a pillow to her face, she tried to extinguish them all drifting herself to sleep.


	6. Memories

After six months of exhaustive lessons about the Westerlands, the Rock and the Lannister history, Sansa had finally concluded the last session with Lady Genna. With all this new knowledge, she felt at ease and ready to carry the full weight of her duties on her shoulders. And Lady Genna smiled proudly at what an outstanding pupil she had been.

The sun was falling against the Sunset Sea letting orange rays enter through the library windows, where both women sat on a small table stretching their arms and backs from how tired they felt. Standing from her seat, Sansa walked through the long corridors of Casterly Rock's colossal collection of books.

"Gods, there are so many!" she thought out loud looking up to the high shelves that stood tall above her.

"Well," Lady Genna said with a smile, "your lord husband made sure to fill this place up with every book he could find and read, after all."

"Oh, you don't truly believe he has read them all, do you?" Sansa asked with a grin sticking her head out of one row of books for Genna to see.

"I have no doubt about it, Sweet Sansa." she replied.

At the beginning of her lessons, Sansa had hated that nickname. She thought Lady Genna was mocking her with it just as Queen Cersei did by calling her Little Bird. But now she has grown fond of it. Lady Genna was perhaps the only person she could fully trust in the Rock and it had been a long time since Sansa could call anyone a friend, though she was much more a mother to her. Genna was full of humor and wisdom, and in no time became Sansa's voice of reason.

"At least now I am free to choose what to read instead of only Lannister History Books from your tedious lessons!" Sansa said loud ad with a tone of jape as she lost herself from sight between the shelves of books.

"Tedious, you say? Ha! I shall just wait for you to come crying to me once you realize what tedious really means now that you are to officially assume your duties, my dear!"

Sansa only smiled to herself at that as she continued to roam through the long corridors of shelves. She ran her fingers across the book titles humming a tune. At one point, Sansa reached the far end corner of the library and noticed one of the shelves was too dusty and smaller than the rest, with spiderwebs hanging at every edge. She frowned and was immediately drawn to it.

Unlike the other shelves, this one was made out of a darker tone of wood and had two cabinet doors at its bottom. When Sansa opened them, large cloud of dust was brought into the light making her cough and her eyes sting. Cleaning the dirt out of her eyelids, Sansa found a wooden box alone inside. Taking the spiderwebs away from it with a funny face and wiping the dust from the top, her eyes widened. She certainly did not expect to find those words carved into the wood with fading gold paint:

_Tyrion L._

"Sansa?" Lady Genna had hurried next to her worried by her coughs, "are you alright?"

Sansa only turned to her showing the box she was holding, and Genna only laughed.

"Oh, I remember this one!" she exclaimed taking the box from Sansa's hands "And I know who would like to see it very much..."

Lady Genna did not even knock her permission into Tyrion's chambers.

"Tyrion, dear!" she said bursting in making Lord Tyrion jump from his seat on the desk where he was working on too many papers. He looked tired, drained all his tasks, and when his eyes met Sansa's, she couldn't stoop her tears from burning a little red.

She had not seen him in a very long while, now. He spent most of his days in his chambers working and had unusually not joined Sansa for a single meal in the past few weeks. She had the odd feeling he was avoiding her and convinced herself she was glad for it, and the free space that gave her. Yet deep down, her mind was troubled with intrigue. Had she done something wrong? Did she truly care?

"Aunt Genna," Tyrion said taking his eyes away from Sansa, "I am quite busy at the moment."

"Really, nephew?" Genna replied with a grin, and placed the box in front of him on the desk. "Too busy for this?"

And as his gaze fell upon his old box, all the tiredness in his eyes went away as fast as a flicker.

"Where did you find it?" he asked, his lips shaping into a smile.

"Your little wife was the one who did, actually. A curious one she is. Well, come over here! We'll be more comfortable in the living room. Oh I want to open it very badly!" Lady Genna's excitement was making Sansa very curious indeed at what secrets laid inside the box.

So Tyrion reluctantly stood from his desk walking over to the large couch front of the fireplace. Lady Genna sat o the single couch across forcing Sansa to sit next to her husband.

Tyrion ran a hand across the top of the pox, his fingers lingering on the carved letters of his name. When he opened it, a slight mantle of dust was unveiled. The first item he took was a wooden dragon toy only an inch larger than the size of a hand.

"Ah!" he exclaimed smiling widely, "My favorite toy!"

"Favorite for sure," Genna added and turned to Sansa, "trust me dear, he took that thing everywhere!"

And Sansa smiled picturing Tyrion as a child running through the corridors of Casterly Rock raising his toy high in the air making dragon sounds. Tyrion then took a small wooden sword which Genna immediately took from his hands.

"Oh, I gave you this one for your fifth nameday!" she said holding the sword with all the tenderness in the world.

"Yes, that was the only sword my father ever let me have. And he wanted to take it away too."

"Oh that silly old lion. See how your aunt has always been there for you?" Lady Genna said and then laughed, "I remember Tywin wouldn't talk to me for a fortnight after it!"

Next were a pair of tiny leather shoes.

"My first boots!" Tyrion said handing the shoes to Sansa. She arched her eyebrows sweetly at how adorable the pair were.

"Oh, how lovely!" she said soft and tenderly holding the tiny boots in front of her face. She wondered if her mother had kept her own first shoes... _Not that I would ever know now..._

Them, Tyrion took a bunch of dried leaves and flowers and old weathered seashells, and placed them on the table in the middle of the couches.

"Aww," Genna said, "Always out collecting nonsense and calling them treasures." Tyrion blushed.

Finally, there was a small dusty book titled "The Dance of Dragons". Part of the cover was faded and all its pages yellow and spotted with age, some even pasted against the other.

"Did you have an obsession with dragons or anything of the sort?" Sansa asked playfully and Tyrion answered her with a guilty smile.

Lady Genna laughed at a memory, "Oh, sweet Sansa, once he asked my brother Kevan a dragon for his nameday! 'It can be little like me' he had said. My adorable boy. And he cried himself to sleep when told they were all extinguished."

Sansa turned to her husband, then, who was red with embarrassment. A knock at the door announced Lord Tyrek in. The young Lannister had a desperate look on his face. "I'm sorry to disturb you, Aunt Genna, but Lucion and Lanna are fighting again and won't listen to no one."

"To no one but me, is what you mean." Lady Genna replied rolling her eyes. "Alright, here I come. Oh, and Tyrion dear, do care to shave!"

"I am actually-" but she left before he could finish, "trying to grow a beard..."

Sansa giggled softly. But then, an awkward silence fell upon them, and she fidgeted her fingers unsure of what to do next. She let her eyes wander about the room realizing now that they were much smaller than the ones he had given her. Glancing around, she found that there was still one item left in the box.

"What is this?" she asked taking a baby blanket out and shaking the dust away from it.

Tyrion gulped, "Thatー my lady mother made that blanket for me before my birth…" he said softly.

Sansa's heart jumped to her throat. Bringing her eyes back to the blanket, she spotted the name 'Tyrion' perfectly embroidered in yellow yarn against the red. The entire needlework had not a single mistake, and Sansa ran her fingers through the perfect patterns of wool, her fingers dancing at the soft texture. Lady Joanna had worked on this herself, and Sansa wondered how many nights she must have stayed up to work on it. Feeling her tummy flutter, she brought one hand to the pendant on her neck. Ever since Tyrion had given it to her, she wore it always, not even taking it out for her baths.

"Sansa," Tyrion said with doubt in his tone and worry on his face, and pointed to the little book of dragons "would you… like to hear the tales from this book?"

And Sansa's lips smiled on their own accord, as if for some reason they had been waiting for hi to ask so. She was not yet sure whether she trusted him, but one thing she knew for certain was that she absolutely adored his tales and the way he told them. So as he began the first chapter, Sansa relaxed her back against the couch. As the story went on, she freed her feet from her shoes and brought her knees up, twisting her back to face Tyrion and relaxing her head against her hand, her elbow on the top of the couch while holding still the baby blanket against her chest.

Tyrion continued his incredible Targaryen tale, making different voices for each character and sounds for the battle scenes. And Sansa found herself staring at him. He never noticed, though, he was too engaged in his storytelling. But Sansa looked and looked and looked. Trying to find something to hate, to find a reason to shut the queer feelings fluttering in her belly whenever he was around. But not even his scar was ugly for her eyes now. And the fact that she couldn't find a single flaw in this particular Lannister scared her to the bone.

But she pushed her thoughts away. Sometimes her mid liked to imagine too much, these feelings meant nothing. Slowly, Tyrion's deep voice lured her to sleep.

"Sansa," she heard him say, his voice echoing in her sleep. He shook her shoulder gently, "Sansa, let's go to your chambers. You are falling asleep."

Tired, she just nodded, wiping her mouth with her cheeks burning praying he didn't notice her drooling. He walked her back to her room which was only at the other end of the corridor. He opened the door for her, yet didn't fully enter. He just stood there, looking up to her with eyes that melted her ice. But she, cowardly, said nothing.

"Goodnight, my lady." he said softly.

_No, don't go… _Why wouldn't the words come to her throat?

Tyrion lingered a while by the door. And at that moment, Sansa felt like she was betraying herself, her family and House. Because every single fiber in her body wanted him to stay. To stay by her side with that warmth of his, telling her every tale he knew. But if she wanted him to stay so badly, why didn't she say anything? Why couldn't she just ask him? Was she afraid of what he might think? Was she not sure that was what she truly wanted?

No, she was entirely sure. But that only filled her head with even more doubts. Why would she ever want him to stay? She didn't like him, and not too long ago she could barely stand his presence. What changed?

And as she continued to question herself, Tyrion Lannister pursed his lips and walked away with his head dropped towards the floor. And the sound of the door closing tasted like the bite of a knife against Sansa's heart. All of a sudden, she burst into tears.

She ran towards her bed facing the pillows, only then realizing that she had been holding his baby blanket all this time. So she curled against her bed cover wrapping her arms around the blanket and hiding her face in it. What was she crying for. she did not know. Her mind and heart were at war with crossed feelings and thoughts.

And as she inhaled the scent of dust and faded perfume from the blanket, Sansa heard that strange voice speak inside her mind again.

_Oh, sweet girl, if you wanted him to stay why didn't you tell him so?_

"I don't know…" she replied, and felt that she had gone completely mad talking with nonexistent voices. "Well, he could have asked too…"

But why would he? She now knew better, he had no interest in pathetic little girls like her. There was a reason why he had been ignoring her all this time, and he must have only read that story to her out of pity. He was chained to her by vows and he surely hated it. She was his burden, he must hate her so… but then, why was he so kind?

Unable to handle these confusing emotions, Sansa screamed, her shouts being deafened by the blanket she held against her face.

_Fool of a dwarf_, Tyrion thought bitterly, _did you really think she would ask you to stay? Did you truly believe that she would begin to miss you if you distanced yourself from her? Fool, fool, fool. Why won't you understand that you will never be anything but a scarred Imp upon her eyes?_

Holding a hand against the wall from the corridor to steady himself, Tyrion Lannister's heart shattered into a thousand tears.


	7. News

At the earliest hours of that morning, everyone in Casterly Rock was woken by the tune of mournful trumpets. Startled by their sound, firstly mistaking them for a siege, Sansa covered her nightclothes with a robe and stepped outside into the corridors. Everyone was doing the same, and soon, all the Lannisters were gathered at in the common space at the center of all the rooms. And then, she noticed that on the banners of House Lannister hanged inside the castle, the proud golden lion was roaring against a black background instead of red.

The morning was foggy, making the castle feel gloomy and tense inside. Standing with Sansa with the same looks of confusion on their faces were the Lannister children, Lord Tyrek and his lady wife Ermesande, Lady Genna, Lady Dorna and some handmaidens and other servants. She frowned not finding Tyrion with them.

"What is happening?" Sansa asked whispering to Lady Genna.

Yet the lady did not reply. Her skin was pale and her eyes lost in the sound of the trumpets, as if deep down something within her knew what was happening.

Steps coming up the stairs revealed Lord Kevan into the room. Sansa had never seen him with more sorrowful eyes.

"Family…" he said softly, his voice cracking slightly. "Tywin… has passed away. Poisoned by his enemies, a letter from Cersei said."

Though it was true Lord Tywin was an evil man, he was still Lady Genna's and Lord Kevan's older brother. Sansa could not help but feel a little moved when the two siblings embraced each other, their sobs and weeps echoing through the silent halls of Casterly Rock. So the servants brought some tea and essence of nightshade to calm their grief, yet neither of them took a single sip.

Sansa knew she ought to feel happy. She should be dancing and jumping and laughing now. The man who had orchestrated the death of her mother and brother, who had married her against her will like a broodmare, was gone… But did his death truly matter when her family remained gone?

After a while longer in the common room, the members of House Lannister returned to their respective chambers to mourn in silence and change their gowns to black. Sansa felt so cold on the way back to her room and attempted to warm her shivers crossing her arms and rubbing her palms about them.

Little time passed before Lady Genna knocked at her door. Sansa was quick to notice the red sadness in her eyes and the mark of tears down her cheeks though she pretended to stand strong and proud as she always did.

"Sweet Sansa," she said, "We are to leave to King's Landing for the funeral now."

And Sansa's heart briefly ceased from beating. She understood her duties as Lady of the Rock, but the last place she'd be willing to go was the capital. She'd rather die before stepping the Red Keep again.

"Oh no, my dear," Genna added quickly noticing her look of worry. "Cersei… she sent specific orders preventing Tyrion from going… you know how she is."

"But he was his _father_!"

"And so she was reminded of, but she wouldn't listen to reason." Then, Lady Genna placed a hand on her cheek. "I trained you well, sweet Sansa, I am sure you will do a great job running the castle while we are gone. But remember,, while you have a duty to the Rock, you also have another one to your husband. Tyrion might try to look tough sometimes, trying to show everyone that he can do anything alone. But what he truly needs is someone by his side. Take care of him, Sansa, he needs you."

He needed her? No, that couldn't be, it held absolutely no sense. Yet Sansa nodded all the same, dropping her gaze to the floor. And when Lady Genna was making her way out, Sansa looked up and stopped her,

"Where is he?"

"Where? I don't really know, he had asked to be left alone… But you don't really think that's the wisest thing for him, do you?"

She spent hours looking for him. Lady Genna and Lord Kevan had already parted for King's Landing and she was still looking for Tyrion. She searched every hall, room and corridor, but he was nowhere to be found. Sansa asked guards and maids for his whereabouts, but none had seen him inside the castle… _That's it! Then he is not inside! _Opening the doors of her balcony, she searched for him and found the shadow of her little husband standing on the battlements. And she wasted no time in grabbing a cloak and running her way there.

The afternoon was very cold and windy, and the fog had not yet lifted. Tyrion was all by himself, staring at the long distance with a flagon of wine by his side. So lost in his thoughts that he would have never noticed her unless she spoke.

"Tyrion?" Sansa said struggling to voice her words against the harsh winds that pushed her auburn locks of hair against her face, "What are you doing here? You might catch a cold!"

"See, Sansa," he said keeping his eyes on the horizon, "from this spot you can see Lannisport and the far end of the Westerlands. Well, at least on a clearer day. How am _I _to rule them all? How can I ever lead them like my father did?"

"Are you listening to yourself, Tyrion Lannister?" Sansa asked frowning down at him, "Your father didn't _lead, _he inspired fear with his terror, that is all. But just because you are not the kind of man who would ever do that doesn't mean you won't be a good ruler. Yes, you are not a man given to swords and battles, but your wits are sharper than Valyrian steel blades. If I remember correctly, you were the man who gained the hill tribes to your side with nothing more than words. Words that inspired soldiers' hearts with courage when you lead the attack on the Mud Gate saving millions of lives. Tyrion, you are the cleverest man alive! There could be no better Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West than you."

Tyrion scoffed a bitter smile, "I don't deserve such kindness from you, my lady…"

Sansa brought herself to her knees to match his height, "Pardon me, my lord, but it is me who should be saying that. You have been nothing but kind to me and forgive me for how ungrateful I have been. I hope you can understand me, and the pain your family has caused me in the past. I couldn't bring myself to trust you and for that I am truly sorry. You didn't deserve that, you deserve someone better than me. It's just.." her voice cracked as tears formed upon her eyes, "I miss my home so much, and the fact that I'd never talk to a northerner again scared me when we were on our way here. But now I know better, and I am not miserable in the Rock as I had thought I'd be. And I have you, and only you to thank for that."

He pursed his lips breathing in deeply through his nose touched by her words. And then laughed sadly looking to the ground, "You know, I never thought I would ever flinch if my father died. That old man has tried to make my life impossible at every opportunity he ever had. And I hated him, I truly did. For that, I could never understand why I always wanted to make him proud of me. To prove him wrong. Why did his approval matter to me, if I despised him so? And now he's gone… why are there tears in my eyes when I should rejoice?"

Tyrion looked miserable and his silent tears grew into loud weeps. Sansa could not possibly understand the sadness that heavied her chest. It was not her loss, Tywin Lannister meant nothing to her at all. But no, it wasn't his death that pained her. It was Tyrion. She had never seen him like this before, and for odd reasons, his sorrow felt as much her own.

She felt sad because _he _was sad. To see him like this tore her heart into a million shards. But why? What was this feeling consuming her heart? Why would she ever feel what he did?

_One flesh, one heart, one soul… _were those vows actually something more than mere words?

She couldn't bear to see him, not like this. She wanted to take all his sorrow away as he had once tried to take hers. Soft teardrops began to fall from the misty skies and she placed a hand on his now bearded cheek. When he looked up to her with those sorrowful eyes, she couldn't stop herself.

Sansa Stark brought Tyrion Lannister against her, hugging him with all the strength, compassion and tenderness she had. And she rested her face on the crook of his neck. Pressing him tightly, she prayed for her embrace to be enough to soothe him. She didn't dare to say that out loud, not yet, but she wanted him to know that he was not alone. That she was there for him, and only for him. Her hug and warmth being a promise that someday, she'd find the courage to tell him so.

And when he returned the embrace, his touch resting on her back, Sansa felt her tummy flutter.

_Maybe… just maybe, there might be something here. Maybe, and just maybe, we can work it out into something even more._

And the thought did no longer terrify her.


	8. Jealousy

A month had gone by and Casterly Rock was still in mourning. The black Lannister banners still hang from the walls and everyone dressed in dark gowns. Yet in the midst of all this sadness, Sansa Stark felt like the happiest woman alive. She had lately been spending a vast amount of time by Tyrion's side. Now that they were both officially the heads of the castle and the Westerlands, they have had to hold numerable audiences with the people, dinners with the noble and since they were already working together, they shared every meal and spare time.

It felt so good to have a friend again. Though sometimes, when the nights was dark and she was left with the sole company of her canopy, Sansa wondered if that was all Tyrion was. She didn't remember her heart fluttering when she was around Jeyne Poole, and her breath certainly did not hitch every time Lady Genna said her name. She was still confused with her feelings. To be fair, after her painful years in King's Landing, Sansa had long forgotten how to feel anything at all besides sadness and sorrow.

Maybe he was just a more special friend than the ones she has had before. That wouldn't be too much of a surprise, for they know so much about the other now. Do special friends have you smiling like an idiot against your pillow at night when you think of them?

Regardless, these thoughts were only left for the dark. During the day, in the little free time she had from her duties, Sansa continued to visit the Godswood in the Stone Garden and the Sept inside the castle. Yet when she was certain no one was minding her, Sansa spent her time in the Hall of the Lords of the Rock. And she sat for hours and hours doing nothing else than looking up to the painting of Lady Joanna.

Sansa had found a queer fascination to her. Everyone in Casterly Rock talked so dearly about her memory, and what a great lady and wife she was. Someday, Sansa wanted the people to remember her in the same way. So she just sat looking upon those green eyes that were the mirror of Tyrion's. And sometimes, she could feel the painting smiling down to her.

In fact, she was just now making her way to the Hall when something down the corridor caught her eye. Tyrion was talking to a… woman? Sansa had never seen her around before, and the servant dress she wore seemed far too new than the rest of the handmaidens'. _And gods… _Tyrion was still in his night clothes, his hair a single mess. Sansa hid half of her body behind her door frame keeping a spying eye on the two of them. And then, she saw Tyrion jump in excitement and… _Kissed _the woman's hand!

Unable to bear their sight any longer, Sansa quickly entered her chambers and closed the doors behind her resting her back against them. Her breath was caught upon her throat and she felt her stomach grow heavy and a pang on the bottom of her heart. There he was. Her husband holding the hand of another woman. Sansa knew she ought to be happy, it was not her hand he was taking. If Tyrion had taken interest in another woman, that meant he had given up on her maidenhead.

She should be overjoyed… then why did she feel hurt and betrayed? Why was her heart shattering and her blood boiling with anger?

Her frustration and confusing thoughts led her to pace her room back and forth. Who was she? What was she doing in his room? _Well of course you know what she was doing, you stupid little girl, you saw his night clothes and messy hair… and that hand kiss… he has never kissed my hand like that._

Feeling too hurt to even walk, Sansa dropped her back against her long couch and covered her eyes with her forearm. He had promised her, he had vowed to never take any woman that wasn't her. She should have known this moment would come. What did she expect? She didn't want him, and he knew she never would. Tyrion was honest and loyal, yes, but so was her father. And at the end, no matter how good they might have been, they were just men. Oh, how she understood the pain of her mother now! But what remained unclear were her own feelings, for she knew she had no single reason to feel hurt.

Refusing to shed a mere tear, Sansa lured herself to sleep for a few minutes that lasted an eternity. Her dreams were quickly interrupted by two soft knocks on her door.

"Come in!" she said, rubbing the sleepiness out of her eyes and stretching her arms from tiredness. But the woman who entered reminded Sansa of all the hurt and hatred she felt for Lord Tyrion.

The woman was young and it was quite hard to deny her beauty. Her hair was a dark shade of brown as well as her eyes. Faint freckles painted her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She was very tall and thin, and Sansa frowned at the sight of her long neck. _Of course, _she thought bitterly, _just his type._

Only when the girl blushed red did Sansa realize how rudely she was staring at her. Even so, she didn't change her cold look and straightened her back even taller to speak.

"Who are you?" She said with a dry and threatening tone. "I have never seen you here before."

"Lady Sansa," the girl replied with the worst curtsy Sansa had ever seen. She had a foreign accent. _Well, of course, it wouldn't be the first time he disguised a foreigner as my servant. _"my name is Lyanne. Lord Tyrion took me into your service less than a day ago. I am from theー"

"It is Lord _Lannister _to you." Sansa said surprising even herself. Why was she so angry? She couldn't tell. The only thing she knew was that every fiber of her body wanted to throw this Lyanne from the top of Casterly Rock. "I have no appetite this morning, so I shall need no fast. You can clean up the room and arrange my bed instead. I expect a hot bath ready before my lunch."

And with that, Sansa stormed off her chambers. She didn't recognize herself, she was never one to treat people in such way, let alone servants. She was the Lady of the Rock, what sort of example was she giving?

_Wait, what example am _I _giving? No, I have done nothing wrong. The one who should reconsider his example is this little pathetic lord of the Rock. I am no more than a laughingstock now. Sansa Stark, whose dwarf husband is being unfaithful to. Ha! How dare he lie to me. At the very end of my corridor! Scandalous!_

She could feel her boiling anger leaking as smoke from her ears. Her face was red as her hairs and her hands balled into fists. Oh how she wanted to storm into Tyrion's room and slap him hard on the face as she had during those first weeks here in this castle. She wanted to hurt him as much as he had…

But on a second thought, Sansa remembered that not all pain comes from fists and punches. Actions and words can be as sharp as Valyrian Steel. _Yes, so if I pretend nothing is amiss, if I show him what he is missing by leaving me aside, then he will realize what he has done. I bet he will come on his knees begging for forgiveness. I can mayhaps slap him then. _

But as soon as the idea came, all the light of her mischievous eyes left in the spur of a second. _Oh, why am I bothering so? I should let him be. I have no right to chain him even more to me. I have taken enough liberty from him already. Why can't you understand, he doesn't like you! And you don't like him either!_

Yet the more she thought about her plan, the more she perfected it. And in no time her feet led her back to her chambers to set it in motion.

Of course, she found Lyanne in her room when she returned. Without a single word, Sansa motioned her orders to help her with the bath. The water was as warm as Sansa loved, and the vapor that filled her lungs reminded her of the springs that ran under Winterfell. It was too hard to admit it, but everyday gone the memory of her home grew blurry and oblivious. And the mere thought of ever forgetting about the North was always quick to make her eyes grow glassy. At least Tyrion had done all he could to give her the privilege to have her House's sigil and colors in her chambers, yet the thoughts of her husband only brought her mind back to the plan.

When she was done with the bath, Lyanne brushed and dried her long auburn hair.

"What gown shall you wear today, my lady?" she asked.

Sansa had always preferred her silver dresses. It was not quite the tone of Stark Grey, yet it was the closest to it the Lannisters ever allowed her to wear. Well, Genna in particular. But tilting her head inspecting her wardrobe, Sansa took a scarlet and gold gown. True, she hated the Lannister colors with a passion, but Tyrion had never seen her in this dress before, and she could not wait to see how his mouth would drop in awe at her sight.

"How shall you wear your hair today, my lady?" Lyanne asked behind her once Sansa was dressed and sitting facing the mirror of her vanity.

She looked at her own reflection for a thoughtful while, trying to find an answer in her own eyes. Trying to find a reason to why she was feeling this way, acting this way, and doing this plan at all.

"Lannister curls." Sansa said, her tongue not believing her words.

With a nod and a smile, Lyanne did as bid; and once she was done, Sansa couldn't help a soft gasp when she raised her eyes back to the mirror. Though her hair was not blonde and her eyes not green, her look almost reflected the one of that old painting back in the Hall of Lords. Her tummy fluttered and she brought a hand to the pendant on her neck.

"What a beautiful brooch!" Lyanne suddenly exclaimed. Without even asking for permission, she grabbed the Lion and Direwolf brooch Tyrek had given her for her nameday from the side of her vanity. Lyanne ran her fingers across the silver par smiling tenderly. "Oh, how in need of a Stark Winterfell is now…"

_That was the peak of it._

Sansa quickly snatched the brooch from Lyanne's hands making the girl almost jump surprise.

"Don't you dare talk about my home in front of me." she said, her words sharp icicles of ice.

"But, my lady, Iー"

"_You_, are done now. And tell my husband I expect him for dinner. Tonight. Here."

Sansa struggled to hide her victorious smile when Tyrion, as expected, dropped his mouth open with a gasp when his eyes met hers in her chambers. It took him a very long while to move from his frozen spot by the door and even longer to speak without stumbling on his own words.

"How was your day, my lord?" Sansa asked with an unusual sweetness that caused Tyrion to raise an eyebrow in suspicion.

"Same as always, I suppose," he replied with a yawn, "Though it was a rough morning, I'll admit."

Sansa bit her lower lip at that to hold her anger back.

"Is that so?" she asked innocently, pulling his chair for him to seat, "I could only wonder why?"

But her question was left hanging in the air as Lyanne entered her chambers carrying the dishes for dinner to be served.

"Lyanne!" Tyrion exclaimed with a surprising joy that set Sansa's blood on raging fire. "Did you make the special I asked?"

"Yes, my lord." she replied with a smile.

"Excellent! You have all my gratitude."

_Did he just _wink _at her?!_

"It's nothing, my lord, this was very thoughtful of you."

_By the Seven, they don't even pretend. Is it their wish to show this all in front of my face_

"Thank you, Lyanne," Sansa said dismissing her, "we can take it from here."

Lowering her head, the girl left them all on their own. And though her eyes were focused on her meal, Sansa could feel Tyrion's frowning gaze never leaving her.

Eventually, he began with his own dish as well. Sansa didn't care to say it out loud, but the meal Lyanne had made was beyond splendid. The soft rare texture of the meat and the hot mashed potatoes were made felt unusually familiar, like a flavour she hadn't tasted in years now.

"Are you enjoying the food, Sansa?" Tyrion asked, a smile playing about his lips.

"It is fine." she replied, not even lifting her eyes to his.

But Tyrion just wouldn't give up. "And how are you finding Lyanne? Is she meeting all your needs? Do you feel better having her here?"

That got her attention.

"Better having her here?" Sansa echoed rhetorically, dropping her fork against the plate. "I cannot believe you, Tyrion Lannister. Where did you even find her?"

"Sansa Iー..." He stuttered in his thoughts.

"Not fast enough to make a story up?" She asked scoffing. "Did you think I would never find out? Do you believe me to be that stupid?"

To that, Tyrion frowned in confusion. "Wait… What are you referring to?"

Sansa laughed ironically, "Oh, so now you are playing the innocent! Spare me your excuses, Tyrion, I saw her leaving your chambers this morning. No wonder how tired you are."

"No, no, wait," Tyrion said raising a hand, "who do you think she is?"

_He really is trying to get into my nerves_. "Who do I think she is? Why, shouldn't you be explaining that to me, Tyrion? You are the one sleeping with her after all."

His mouth opened in surprise. _I got him_. But then, Tyrion burst out into loud and amused laughs.

And Sansa just sat there looking sideways and back to her husband, not understanding anything that was happening.

"Do you find this funny?"

"Sansa?" Tyrion asked incredulously, struggling to speak because of his laughter. "Are you _jealous_?"

She had never remembered her cheeks burning this warm and red. Embarrassed, she looked away from him and rested her hands upon her lap.

"I am certainly _not_," she said straightening her back proudly, "And it does not matter. I do not care for whatever you do in your personal life, so do as you please, my lord."

But Tyrion only shook his head with a smile, "Oh, silly Sansa."

He walked over to her, took her hand in his and raised those eyes of his that melted her to the core, making her unable to refuse his touch and gaze.

"How many times do I need to tell you for you to believe me, Sansa? I won't ever break a single vow to you. Not for anything in the world." Tyrion said softly and gave her hand a squeeze. "When you told me you were scared of never getting to talk to a northerner again, the first thing I did was to find someone from the North who would accept being in service here, at the Rock.

"As you can imagine, almost no one wanted to come. No northerner would ever fall so low as to serve a Lannister. But Lyanne and her family have always been fond of you Starks and accepted my offer. So that, dear Sansa, is why she was in my chambers earlier today. I was giving her the instructions on how to serve you."

But of course… her accent, her looks, the food and even her name were from the North. How stupid! How could she never notice! Was it her anger that blinded her so, or did she just not remember home anymore? _And Tyrion… this was so kind of him and I blew it up completely! Oh what a fool he must think of me now. Why can't I ever do anything but disappoint?_

The frustration in her heart was too big for her to bear. She was so embarrassed and ashamed! She wanted to run away and hide her stupidity form everyone. What a fool, what a fool, what a fool!

"Forgive me Tyrion Iー, I need to leave."

And like a coward, she ran. Tears streaming down her eyes.

Yet that night, when Tyrion went to bed, sleep lasted long in claiming him, for he couldn't stop smiling against his feathered pillow like an utter idiot.

She had worn Lannister curls for him and just for him, and even dressed in his House colors. By all gods, she was _jealous_ for _him_!

And she had smiled…

_Oh, and what a smile… _


	9. Children

Sansa loved the seventh day of the week. At the Rock, it was customary for that day to be dedicated to rest and prayer for those who followed any faith. It was a day for family, a day when none of her tiring duties could bother her. Today, as usual, lunch was shared with all the Lannisters from the Rock. And when the meal was over, the Lannister children begged Sansa to take them to the beach.

"Please, Auntie Sansa!" little Janei said pulling Sansa's skirts after they all finished their meals. "Aunt Genna says we cannot go alone and she's too tired to take us now."

"I don't understand, Aunt Genna," Lucion protested crossing his arms, "we are old now, we can take care of ourselves!"

"Take care of yourselves, you say?" laughed Lady Genna, "last time we went down there I recall you tried to _drown _your _sister_!"

"Well, it was not my fault she kept splashing my face after I told her not to!"

Lanna rolled her eyes ignoring her brother and turned to Sansa taking her hand, "Please, Auntie Sansa, we promise we'll behave."

To be honest, Sansa felt too tired to do anything at all. And the thought of having to climb down all those stairs from the Rock down to the beach already had her legs feeling sore. But looking down at the pleading green eyes of the three children… How could she ever say no to them?

"Alright, fine!" Sansa said in defeat, kneeling down for them to hug her.

"Oh, sweet Sansa, these kids will be the death of you." Lady Genna commented with a grin.

"Very well," Tyrion suddenly said taking Janei by the hand, "off we go, then!"

"You are coming too?" Sansa asked softly, her lips curving slightly into a smile.

"Why, of course!" You wouldn't think I'd leave you by yourself with these demons," he said japing and rubbing his cheek against Janei's, "what sort of husband would I be?"

"Uncle Tyrion!" Janei exclaimed laughing, "Your beard is tickling me!"

Though Sansa really loved them, the children were already giving her a headache on the way down to the beach. They were just too… _loud_. And bringing her eyes to Tyrion's, he gave her a look letting her know he felt the same way. And Sansa laughed.

The afternoon was the most pleasant, with the sun halfway through its fall towards the sea and the waves softly crashing against the shore. And as soon as they set foot upon the sand, the children kicked off their shoes and ran about, screaming like wildlings. Sansa and Tyrion looked at each other, sighing a smile, knowing how tired they would end up after this.

But as hard as it sometimes was to keep an eye on them, Sansa was having the loveliest of days with the little Lannisters. They all sat on the sand building castles. Sansa helped Janei and Lanna make their palace while Tyrion and Lucion were making a fortress of their own. Forgetting herself, she stared at her husband playing with the little boy. He was playing war with his nephew, making war sounds and telling tales, and Lucion wouldn't stop jumping and hooting at how entertaining his uncle was, And Sansa's eyes tendered. Without a doubt, Tyrion was extraordinary with children. Oh what a great father he would be.

But that meant his children would be hers too…

If she was to be honest with herself, out of every man she has had the displeasure of ever meeting, Sansa would choose Tyrion, and only Tyrion to father her children. The thought scared her, yes, but that didn't make it any less true. Even so, she didn't feel ready, or that ever would be ready to become a mother. Though she knew she was good with children too, Sansa could not bring herself to believe she was fit for motherhood. That would also mean Tyrion would have to claim her maidenhead… and she didn't see that ever happening.

But when Tyrion noticed her gaze and turned to smile at her, Sansa felt her tummy flutter and her cheeks burn at being caught staring. She turned back to the sand and the girls.

The sun was nearly falling against the horizon when the children decided to bath in the sea.

"Alright, alright, fine!" Tyrion had told them after they begged and begged for permission to swim. "But your Aunt Sansa and I will be keeping an eye on the three of you from the shore. One misbehavior and I shall drag you out of the water myself, do you understand?"

And without replying they had laughed and screamed running towards the small waves. So now, Sansa sat very next to Tyrion, the sky turning orange and purple above them. They didn't speak a single word, yet his company was enough to bring a childish smile to her lips.

"You know what is funny?" Tyrion asked breaking the silence and turning to her. "They call us uncle and aunt but in reality they are my little cousins."

Sansa turned to him, her eyes wide with enlightenment, "You are right! I never realized that until now. Why do they call us that, then?"

"Guess we look too old." Tyrion teased. knocking his elbow softly against her side. She laughed doing the same to him.

Footsteps coming from behind drew their attention to Lord Tyrek.

"Uncle Tyrion," he said, "Aunt Genna sent me for you. She wants to speak to you in her chambers."

Tyrion rolled his eyes at Sansa making her giggle.

"Off with you," she told him, "You know Genna doesn't like to be kept waiting."

So bidding as his wife told him to, Tyrion made his way back to the Rock, and in his place sat Tyrek.

"Have they been too much of a trouble today, my lady?" he asked looking to the children in the sea.

"Not truly, they have been too excited to even fight." She said smiling at the little ones as they swam in sunset water.

"I see you and my uncle Tyrion are growing closer. I am truly glad for the two of you."

Sansa turned with a hitch in her breath and a frown. "Pardon me?"

"Well, everyone is talking about it in the castle now. You two have been inseparable lately."

"Heー..." she stuttered, "He is my friend."

"He is your _husband_." Tyrek replied raising his eyebrows at her.

Sansa had always cherished conversations with Lord Tyrek. It had been a long time since she had really talked with someone of her age and Tyrek seemed to understand her well. But she didn't want to have this conversation. Not when she did not understand her own feelings herself. So she looked back to the distance, attempting to ignore him.

"Sansa," Tyrek insisted for her attention, "I, more than anyone, understand how you feel. When I was betrothed to Ermesande, I wanted to know nothing of her. She was barely eight when we married and I became the laughing stock among my mutuals. Wet nurse, they called me. And I indeed felt like one. She wouldn't talk to me, and cried herself to sleep every night. I couldn't blame her, but it didn't make me feel any better.

"Days, weeks and months passed when she slowly began to open herself to me. We were bound to live under the same roof, after all, so we embraced the fact that nothing but death would ever change that. I never thought I would ever in life fall for her, nor did I expect her to fall for me. But put a man and a woman together for too long, chances are they will grow to need each other.

"And with much luck, that need becomes something more. Stone by stone, it builds itself into love. My uncle Tyrion loves you, Lady Sansa, and only a fool would not notice that from the way he looks at you."

Sansa's breath hitched and her heart hammered against her head. She didn't know what to say. Her throat was tightened in a knot choking her with emotion. She didn't know what to say, what to do, how to feel! She wished Tyrek would have never told her that, because now she was even more confused than before.

Knowing she had nothing to respond, Tyrek stood shaking the sand away from his clothes. "The hour grows late, I better take these troublemakers out of the water before they catch a cold."

Sansa nodded. But when Tyrion was halfway to the children, he turned back to her.

"And Sansa… think about it."

By the time Sansa returned to the castle, the sun was already gone and the skies were losing the last shades of orange. As she walked up the stairs to the common room that united all chambers, Sansa heard voices coming from the closest room that belonged to Lady Genna.

_Don't do it, don't do it, don't do it, _she thought cursing herself.

But her mind and heart were burning with curiosity, making her lose control over her own feet. So she approached the door and carefully leaned her ear against the mahogany.

"You have seen her!" she heard Genna protest, "She is as good with children as you are."

"That doesn't mean that she wants children of her own!" she heard Tyrion, "Not with me at the very least."

"You must be a true idiot, dear nephew. Have you ever seen your wife's eyes? Because we all here have, and we all know how those Tully pupils never shine as bright as when you are around."

"Aunt Genna, you don't truly believe that."

"All I know is Casterly Rock needs an heir. You are not aging any younger and neither is she. You know how many houses are led to the oblivion after having no heirs. The true branch of House Lannister must endure, and the two of you seem to forget your duty to that."

"You sound like my father, now."

"And with good reason! Tyrion… I'm not telling you to do it today, nor tomorrow. But even you know that at some point, you _must._"

Sansa stepped back and walked away wanting to hear no more. Oh why did she even reach out to listen in the first place. Genna was right, as Lady of the Rock she had the duty of granting the castle rightful heirs to follow the paintings of the lords of the past. But she just couldn't do it! The mere thought of what that implied sent electric shocks running down her spine. Though, Sansa couldn't tell if they meant fear or a feeling she hadn't felt in a very long time ago.

When Tyrion joined her that night for dinner in her chambers, the space between them felt tight and awkward. Sansa was still feeling confused and a little agitated and she could tell Tyrion was also uncomfortable on his seat. They ate their meal in silence, and without being aware of how much time had passed, the moment for Tyrion to leave came, and he stood from his seat with a small bow.

"My lady," he said with that deep and warm voice of his, "Sleep Well…"

But she did not want him to go, she truly didn't. _My uncle Tyrion loves you…_ could it really be? There was one way to find out, yet could she find the courage to ask this time?

_Just say it already,_ that odd voice spoke in her mind giving Sansa all the encouragement she needed.

"Stay." she said, her voice low and weak.

Tyrion turned from the door slowly to meet her eyes, and she couldn't help but blush at how tenderly he looked at her. His eyebrows were raised high on his forehead with surprise.

"Stay." Sansa said again, louder, her hand resting on the pendant on her low neck.

"Sansa…" he sighed incredulously.

She walked over to her bedside table taking the book of constellations he had given her for her nameday. She didn't know why she was doing this, but after she asked him to stay a heavy weight dropped from her chest. So now, she knew she was doing the right thing.

"When you gave this to me, you told me we could read it together someday. I still haven't read past its half, so mayhaps… if you want of course… would you like to read it to me?"

That was actually a lie. She had read the book thrice already and knew its content by heart. Still, it was the best excuse she could find. A excuse for her too, to pretend she wanted him to stay to read and not because she just wanted his warmth by her side forever.

And it worked because Tyrion smiled the widest of smiles and Sansa could have sworn to have seen some tears form in his eyes. So, her heart acting on its own accord, Sansa pulled over the dornish cover of her bed and slipped under it, placing some pillows against the headboard for their backs to rest.

Fully clothed as he was Tyrion joined her by her side, and placed the book upon his legs, covering half of their bodies with the bed-cover.

"Oh Seven," he said, "This bed-cover is truly comfortable. No wonder why its price was so expensive!"

Sansa turned to him with guilty eyes and a mile that made Tyrion chuckle.

As he read through constellations and tales, Sansa found herself leaning to him Story after story they relaxed their bodies more and more against the bed. With her eyelids heavy with sleep and her head against his chest, Tyrion's voice lured Sansa to sleep.

But before her dreams could claim her, she felt the soft pressure of his lips against her forehead.

And she smiled, holding him a little closer before drifting into sleep.


	10. Gifts

That morning, Sansa found Lady Genna running about the entrance hall of the Rock with her curls falling in a messy and stressful way. As Sansa was making her path down the stairs to join her, Genna rubbed her palms across her face. Many people were in the hall making their way out of the castle, all holding rolled parchments and presentation boards and accounting books.

"Lady Genna?" Sansa called drawing the attention of the Lannister lady, "What is happening? What were all these people doing here? Gods, you look quite stressed."

"Tyrion's name day is coming near," she replied, "that little fool man… I gathered the entire party committee here, all bringing different ideas on how to celebrate it and he goes and says he only wants a small dinner with the family!" Genna laughed, "It is not everyday that a man turns five and twenty! But well, I guess he has always been a man of simple things, and not even being Lord of Casterly Rock would ever change that."

Sansa nodded in agreement with a smile playing about her lips. Though Tyrion was a Lannister, he has never been a man given to luxury and extravagances. It was certainly odd that someone turning to that important age would not celebrate it grandly, but knowing her husband well, she knew he'd rather enjoy something small with his close one than a feast by the noblemen.

"Well, sweet Sansa," said Genna turning with a grin, "what are you getting my nephew?"

"Iー I…" Sansa stuttered. And she blushed red as her hairs only then realizing she had not given a single thought on what to gift Tyrion. He had been very thoughtful on her presents for her own name day, and Sansa knew she couldn't let him down with hers. But if truth be told, she had not the slightest idea on what he would love to have more than anything in the world. "I haven't truly thought of anything yet. And right now nothing is coming to mind!"

"You know, you can always give him this." Genna said shaping her hands into a "V" and drawing them down to her womanhood, shaking her shoulders in japing flirt.

Sansa's cheeks burned even brighter at that, "Lady Genna!"

"Oh what will you say now, sweet Sansa? That it is improper? You should know by now he would like that very much. But I know you won't do such thing, not yet anyways. So I'd advise you to think of something fast, because almost all of us here have his gifts ready." Her tone turned more serious then, "But do remember, he is a simple man… try giving him something from the _heart_."

And with a wink, Lady Genna turned her back to Sansa leaving her to stand alone dwelling in thoughts. She knew time was ticking against her, and if she wanted to get something memorable to Tyrion she had to act fast. So, as an idea crossed her mind as she paced about the hall, Sansa rushed back to her chambers, her feet quick with excitement.

If there was one thing Tyrion was more fond of than his family were books. Why, of course! How didn't she ever think of that! With her elegant handwriting, Sansa sent raven to the Citadel ordering a very special request for a quite expensive price. She cared not about expenses, not as long as Tyrion would be happy.

But that couldn't be all. He had given her _four_ presents! So she began storming ideas on what else she could give him.

_Dragons… yes! He adores dragons. He is always fond of a good wine too. Oh! He likes swords too! Mmmm but he is not skilled at wielding them… I'll think of something about that._

And on and on she went, making a list of everything she needed to get him. And as she sat writing a letter for Tyrion, Sansa couldn't help but smile, thinking how much her little husband will love her presents.

The remaining days passed and Tyrion's name day finally arrived in a sunny and pleasant morning. For this occasion, Sansa had instructed his handmaidens to make no breakfast, for she was to prepare one herself. Since part of her duties as Lady of the Rock implied supervising the work at the kitchens, Sansa had learned so much from the cooks by talking to them and seeing how they worked, and they were always more than happy to teach her and clear any of her doubts.

So now, with the breakfast tray trembling upon her over excited hands, Sansa was almost dancing her way to her husband's chambers. Trying ever so hard to bite back that foolish smile from her lips. Before knocking at his door, she gave herself time to gather her feelings and calm her emotions. And she smiled softly to herself, thinking of how far she and Tyrion had come. They weren't lovers, or anything of the sort. But she was certain he'd always be her enemy, and that could not be any less true now. Not when his happiness mattered to her so, that she was willing to give him the best gifts he could ask from the Seven Kingdoms.

When she opened the door, Sansa knew right there and then that she would never forget the wide smile that lit Tyrion's face when he saw her enter his room. He was certainly not expecting her to bring the fast. Quickly, Sansa placed the silver tray on his bedside table and lost no time in running to his side to give him a warm hug. Her best friend was turning five and twenty, so she wanted to make sure he had the best day of them all.

"Sansa," Tyrion said with a smile leaning towards the tray inhaling food's scent with his eyes closed. "It smells terrific!"

"Well, I hope it tastes as good as it smells, for I spent the earliest hours of the morning preparing it."

At that, Tyrion's eyes widened, focusing first on the meal and then back to her. "You mean to tell me you made this yourself?!"

Sansa nodded with a giggle, "Why, yes! It's a very special day so I thought it could not begin with a less special fast."

"Oh, you!" laughed Tyrion bringing her back to his embrace.

"Shall I place the tray on your solar?" Sansa asked.

But Tyrion shook his head, "You know, Sansa, turning five and twenty has my bones and muscles feeling very sore. I'd rather not move from my bed and break the fast here."

"Oh, you silly old lion," Sansa said pinching his arm slightly, "don't use your age as an excuse to be lazy!"

"You were the one to say this was a special day! So I can't think of anything more special than enjoying this delicious meal on the comfort of my bed with my wife by my side." Tyrion said smiling tenderly.

And Sansa felt her heart grow too large for her chest, making her cheeks turn red with warmth.

"Well," she said clearing her throat and straightening her back, ignoring the feelings that danced at the bottom of her tummy, "how can you know the food is delicious if you haven't tasted it yet?"

"You are far too skilled at everything you do for this to taste badly, my lady." he replied and then winked, "Everything except Cyvasse, I always beat you at that game."

Faking hurt, Sansa grabbed the nearest pillow on the bed and hit Tyrion before he could even see the blow coming. Laughing, he caught her by the wrist and pulled her to his side on the bed. And they both shared the fast together with their backs against the headboard and the tray upon their legs, talking and talking and talking.

Sansa left Tyrion to himself at noon, and skipped lunch to join Lady Genna downstairs as she supervised the arrangement of the dining hall. Though Genna was usually a lady of strong composure and grounded mind, Sansa could tell she was losing her sanity preparing Tyrion's name day.

"I am a Lannister, sweet Sansa," she told her. "I am used to extravagant balls and grand feasts, but I know nothing about simplicity! Oh, why does your husband have to be like this?"

"To be a little less a Lannister? Why, that's the best part of him." Sansa replied with a wink.

"Oh, Sansa Stark!" laughed Genna pushing her gently, "You like him!"

Sansa only rolled her eyes at that and with two hands on Genna's shoulders, she led her out of the hall. "Now, go, my lady. You look awful and not like yourself at all. I can take care of this from here."

And with a grateful look and giving Sansa a kiss on her cheek, Lady Genna returned to her chambers.

As Sansa was arranging the room and the dinner dishes to her will, Lucion, Lanna and Janei stormed into the hall running breathless.

"Auntie Sansa, Auntie Sansa!" they said loud and together, "We want to help too!"

"My little ones…" said Sansa with a sigh. There was still much left to be done and their presence would only slow everyone from their tasks. Yet right when she was about to ask them to leave, an idea crossed her mind like a lighting bolt.

"Actually…" Sansa said with a mischievous smile, "I could really use your help."

Sansa waited for Tyrion outside of his chambers as he prepared for dinner. She was wearing a silver and crimson velvet gown and her auburn hair was curled in the Lannister way she has now grown used to, though there were still northern braids on the top of her head.

She was growing quite impatient, pacing outside along the corridor, worried that for some reason Tyrion would not be pleased with what she had prepared for him. Bringing her and to her necklace as she always did when feeling anxious, Sansa played with the golden pendant on her neck.

_You know he is a simple man,_ _sweet girl,_ that voice spoke in her mind again. _And you are smart enough to know that what he wants does not lie in presents but in your own heart_.

"My heart?" Sansa asked with a sarcastic tone, "I don't truly believe he wants that at all. Everyone keeps telling me so, but how could he ever want my heart when not even I know what lies within it?"

_Only because you don't want to admit it your feelings does not mean they are not there._

Sans heard incoming footsteps and raised her eyes to her forehead as if looking into her own mind.

"Would you please shut it? He is coming now."

And the fact that she heard that strange voice sigh inside her head was proof enough to let Sansa know that she had gone completely mad.

Looking about the corridor and then back to her, Tyrion frowned in suspicion.

"Sansa? Were you talking to someone?"

"Me? Someone? Talking what?" Sans replied praying to the Seven for her cheeks not to blush.

And before he could ask anything further, she took his hand in hers and led hi to the dining hall.. Sansa felt so excited that she did not notice how she was constantly squeezing Tyrion's hand throughout the way, her chest rising high every once in a while with sudden emotion. And when she opened the door of the hall, she never left her eyes from her husband, trying to emblem in her memory the image of his wholesome reaction.

Tyrion gasped as the dining hall came into view. The room was warmly adorned and from the ceiling hung a giant white banner with red writing and drawings that read 'Happee Name Day Tyrion'.

"Uncle Tyrion!" exclaimed the children as they ran to hug their uncle making Tyrion lose balance and fall on his back to the floor while they placed themselves on top of him giving him kisses and laughing.

"Uncle Tyrion!" said Janei, "We made the banner for you, do you like it?"

"Yes uncle!" added Lucion, "We did it all alone with no help!"

"I did most of the drawings!" remarked Lanna, "does it please you, Uncle Tyrion?"

"I love it with all my heart. Come here you little artists." Tyrion said hugging the children and placing a kiss on top of their foreheads.

"Now, now, kids," Sansa said with a smile, "Let's not choke your uncle and eat our dinner before it grows cold, shall we?"

So, the children returned running and giggling to their seats, and Sansa lowered herself to help Tyrion back to his feet.

Lord Kevan, Lady Dorna, Lady Genna, Lord Tyrek and Lady Ermesande had also joined for this dinner, and Sansa could tell Tyrion was having the loveliest of times by the people he cared for the most. Usually, in balls or parties, he would have a cross look on his face and only enjoy the wine given to him. But here, by the side of his family, he could be himself. And so, they laughed and talked and enjoyed the most delicious meal they have all shared in a long while.

When the night grew late, and the children's eyes were closing heavy with sleep, and there was not a single sip left in any of the flagons of honeyed wine, dinner was called to an end. Bidding everyone a good night and sweet dreams, Sansa and Tyrion walked together to the way of the castle were their respective chambers were.

"Goodnight, my lady." Tyrion said stopping by her door.

But Sansa only smiled and turned to him walking backwards to the end of the corridor where his rooms were.

"Not yet, Tyrion. You wouldn't think I have no gifts for you, do you?" she said playfully.

And Tyrion's eyes glowed making him almost run as he followed her in full glee.

The boxes Sansa had ordered some servants to bring were already waiting inside Tyrion's chambers. And when he spotted the gifts, he turned to Sansa with a childish smile.

"Well, open them!" she laughed.

So, sitting on the couches by his fireplace, Tyrion ripped the wrapping paper away from the first box.

"'A Dance of Dragons', the official illustrated version from the Citadel by Maester Aemon!" Tyrion said reading the cover of the book Sansa had given him. He turned to her, his mouth opened wide with an amused smile. "Sansa! How did you ever get this copy!?"

"Well, my words are very charming, you see." she japed and laughed, "And besides, I guess being a Lannister has the little benefit of the coin."

He laughed out loud at that, and opened his second present.

"What a fine cloak! Did youー"

"I made it myself, yes." Sansa said smiling tenderly. "Does it fit properly?"

Standing up, Tyrion placed the crimson cloak about his shoulders, "My! Don't I look very lordy with this?" he chuckled standing proud.

And Sansa had to turn her face away to avoid a blush, for he truly looked charming in it.

"Well, go on," she encouraged, "There's more!"

The next two presents were six flagons of wine, three Dornish Red and three Arbor Gold; and a fine dagger with his name carved on it and a golden lion on its hilt.

"The last one," sighed Tyrion as he unwrapped the paper from the last gift. "I doubt this could be any better than the ones before…"

But with a gasp, he was proven wrong. Inside a wooden box laid a small dragon egg with purple and red scales, and Tyrion almost dropped it had against the ground in surprise. Turning to Sansa with a perplexed look, she laughed and blushed and wished someone could at that moment paint and capture the expression on his face.

"Sansa… where in the world did you get this?"

"It was no easy task, I'll admit. But I managed to find an adventurer merchant who claimed to have found it by the ruins of Old Valyria. He said the egg is nothing more than stone now, that there is no life in it anymore. But I thought the gesture would be kind nonetheless. Do you like it?"

"Sansa Iー... I have no words! All of these… Gods know I don't deserve any of these gifts."

But she shook her head with a kind smile. "Oh, they know very well how much you do, Tyrion."

And he gave her the warmest hug he had ever given her. With her heart jumping to her throat, she returned his embrace as warmly, and they both lingered in their arms for longer than necessary.

Only then did Sansa notice how exhausted she felt. Her eyelids were heavy with tiredness and her muscles sore from all the arrangements done. Not to mention how early she had waked up that morning to make Tyrion his breakfast in time.

"Tyrion, I wish I could stay a while longer, but I truly need to sleep now." Sansa said and gave his hand a squeeze. "Goodnight, I hope you liked your gifts."

"I _adored_ them Sansa. Thank you." he said with his deep voice and she felt her heart melt upon his tone. "Sweet dreams, my lady."

And with a smile, she left.

Tyrion did not want to sound too selfish. Her gifts were the most thoughtful he had ever received and he could barely imagine how hard it must have been to acquire them all. But he didn't get the gift he wanted the most, and that was Sansa's love.

He knew it was too much to ask for, to have her come to him willingly. Yet Tyrion could not help himself from imagining so every night staring at the canopy before going to sleep. He had never felt like this for any of his women before. Sansa had turned his world completely, and he was determined to one day gain her heart.

As he was organizing the empty boxes of his presents, the sound of falling paper met the floor and he turned his gaze to it finding a sealed envelope against the stone. Picking it up and opening it, Tyrion's tired eyes glowed with life recognizing the elegant handwriting of his lady.

Dear Tyrion,

Happy Name Day! I trust this letter has reached you by the end of this evening, and that you have not been sneaky enough to have found it before. I truly hope you have enjoyed this day, and that the memory of this occasion will live forever in your mind and heart. I write to you Because I have noticed that words come easier to me by quill than aloud. And I needed to tell you, I need to say this and rid of the burden in my chest, that I am eternally grateful to have you by my side. Though it is true that I don't deserve you, selfish as I am, i wish for us to never be apart. You are my truest friend, Tyrion. Thank you for being my family.

Yours,

Sansa

Breathing in deeply, Tyrion tried to keep his feelings from exploding. _This woman will never cease to surprise me…_

With his eyes glassy and the letter still on his hands, Tyrion blew every candle from his room and walked over to his bed holding her words tightly against his chest.

After today, Tyrion Lannister knew it for true: he was utterly, madly and profoundly in love with Sansa Stark.


	11. Wine & Ale

Night lasted far too long than Sansa pleased to fall. As of late, she had been utterly busy with her duties at the Rock to the extent that she barely had any free time for herself. But now that the moon was high up in the sky, she could finally excuse herself and make way back to her chambers.

Sansa had lately been feeling heavy hearted. As if there was something burdening her chest consuming her whole. She had thought of telling Lady Genna about it, maybe she would have a valuable explanation to it as she seemed to have an answer for everything. But, truth be told, Sansa did not know how to explain what she felt. She knew it was no physical pain, only her mind and soul playing games with her. The only thing she knew for true was that whenever Tyrion was around, she was relieved from that weight. And thinking about it always sent a shiver run down her spine, for she didn't know how to feel about that, her mind and heart changing at each given thought about it.

Tyrion was kind and gentle, but Sansa was not sure if she could ever see him as something more than a friend. Even so, some nights when she was alone with the dark, she allowed her dreams to dance about a 'what if'. And at every new morning she woke up with even more doubts than before. She was confused and desperate, she did not know how to feel. Oh, it would have all been easier if he had treated her in a vile way. Sometimes, it was easier to hate someone than to love them. And she couldn't… no… she was afraid to let herself love Tyrion.

With a heavy sigh and a shake of her head, Sansa left all her crossing thoughts behind as she turned to the corridor that led to her chambers. As soon as she placed a hand upon the knob of her door, she heard the loud laugh of Lady Genna come from down the hall, and the dancing light of candles coming from under the doors of Tyrion's chambers. Raising one eyebrow without giving much of a thought about it, Sansa made her way there.

With two soft knocks against the door, she didn't wait for permission to open it slightly, the wood cracking as Tyrion's room came into view.

"Sweet Sansa!" exclaimed Genna who was sitting with Tyrion on the table of his solar, both sharing a cup of wine, "Come here, enter! We were just talking about you."

Sansa caught a blush on Tyrion's cheeks at that and she felt her own face grow warm. Her little husband stood from his seat and smiled kindly to her.

"Sansa," he said softly with his eyes glowing, and her name on his lips had already formed a tight knot in her fluttering tummy, "would you care to join us?" He added raising a flagon of honeyed wine.

Sansa smiled sweetly, "Why, Tyrion, you know I'd never turn down a cup of that."

And both him and Genna chuckled as she took a seat while her cup was being filled.

Now that she had grown this close to both Lannisters, Sansa could no longer bring herself to hide behind her old armour of courtesies. And she no longer regretted the risk she took at letting her ice walls fall because now, at least with both of them, she could truly be herself. She could laugh and tease and talk as much as she liked. And they always had an amusing story to tell. They were her friends, her family. How ironic was it that Lannisters were the ones to bring a smile back to her face.

"So, Sansa," Lady Genna said bringing her back from her thoughts, "how was your day?"

"Dreadful." Sansa said with a sigh after sipping from her wine. "These duties are getting the best out of me! And, gods, it is getting hotter and hotter by the day. I cannot stand the heat in gowns like this!"

Tyrion chuckled and Genna laughed out loud.

"Oh, I told you you'd miss my lessons!" she said, "And, by the Seven, you sound exactly like Lady Joanna. Always complaining about her duties and gowns and heat yet excelling in her position all the same. But yes, summer is coming to its peak, so welcome to the heat of the Rock."

"That's the only flaw in summer." Tyrion added, "But with the beaches and cold drinks all the heat can be ignored. Not to mention that in summer the festival of the Mother takes place, and the date is already coming near! There is no better city to celebrate it than Lannisport."

"You have never been one given to the cold, aren't you?" Sansa asked him with a grin.

"My lady, I admire your northern blood and that stupidly incredible resistance to the cold that you have. But if you'd have seen me at the wall you'd know how _fond_ I can be of the cold."

"Well, at least you have _her _to keep you warm, then." Lady Genna said, and both dropped their gazes to the floor, their cheeks red as blood. "Both of you are utter fools, you know that? … Oh! The hour is not yet too late, shall we play a game?"

"I think I left my board of Cyvasse somewhere here…" said Tyrion standing from his seat looking for his game about his rooms.

"Cyvasse? Oh no, Tyrion dear. I meant _another_ kind of game." Genna said raising her cup of wine.

And Tyrion's face lit up mirroring her mischievous smile. "Very well," he said opening the small secret cellar in his room taking out two flagons of wine and two flasks of ale, "then it is this I should be looking for."

While Genna and Tyrion felt very excited about the game ahead, Sansa could feel herself growing a little anxious. She had never drank past three cups of wine and that quantity already had her in a quite too happy mood back in her nameday. Not to mention that she had never liked the taste of ale.

"Sansa, you know you don't have to play if you don't want to." Tyrion said softly clearly noticing her insecurity.

Though Sansa was not given to drinks, she was also a Stark. And a very proud and stubborn one.

So she turned to her husband and faked confidence with a grin. "I'll play."

And he smiled.

"Alright, then," Genna said, "the game is quite simple. Tyrion, I believe you know the rules already but I will go over them again for Sansa. Basically, you have to assume something about one of us here. If what you assume is the truth, your opponent has to drink. If it's not, then you do. I'll begin with Tyrion so you can see how this works.

"Nephew… you had a crush on Rhea Florent when we went on a visit to the Reach when you were younger. And _you _were the one to convince your father to make Lord Florent a marriage proposal between the two."

Tyrion pursed his lips in embarrassment, then, and sipped from his cup.

"Lady Florent?" Sansa said turning to him with one threatening eyebrow up.

"It was a childhood crush!" He said in his defense with a hint of a laugh. "Besides, they rejected the proposal."

"Shame is on their house." said Genna, "They said they didn't want to embarrass their name yet married her to a man with three former wives and ten children! Scandalous. Well, your turn, Tyrion."

He leaned upon the table to face his aunt closer, narrowing his eyes as if that way he could read her mind. "Everyone here knows the rumors so I think it's past time I ask this to your own face. None of your children were your husband's."

"_Wrong._" Lady Genna replied with a smirk and Tyrion's eyes opened in disbelief. "I know the rumors, and I can't be surprised of them for everyone knows I don't love my husband. But I am a Lannister, and I have always known my duty.

"My turn again. Sansa!"

And with that, Sansa was brought back to her senses and the reality that she was also being part of the game. She gulped as she ner Genna's mysterious eyes, nervous of whatever she might ask.

"Your first and only kiss was with Tyrion on your wedding ceremony."

That brought a confident grin to her face.

"No. It was Joffrey a short while after we arrived to King's Landing. Drink."

Lady Genna gasped and Tyrion stuck his tongue out in disgust making Sansa chuckle.

"Genna," she said, "your favorite nephew is Tyrion."

"_Ah! _Wrong…" Tyrion answered for his aunt and Genna shit him a pity look. "Don't give me that face when we both know it's Jaime!"

"Drink." Genna said turning back to Sansa, her pity smile still on her face.

And on and on they went, never minding how low the moon was falling. Without noticing it, a flagon of wine and a flask of ale had already run dry. And the remaining flagon of Dornish Red was half empty while the other flask of ale half full.

Sansa could no longer feel the tip of her fingers nor the top of her ears. Her cheeks blushed bright and everything seemed unusually funny to her. Not to mention how awfully her words tripped over her tongue. She felt slow, dumb and numb. And her stomach was a chaotic typhoon that sent a bitterness running up her throat.

She noticed Tyrion and Genna were almost perfectly fine. Well, they were far more used to liquor than she was. But Sansa could already feel herself falling from her seat.

She tried to sober herself with her mind, to bring herself back to normal with nothing more than her thoughts. But it was pointless. It was as if her perfectly conscious self was trapped in a dummy and slow body. And everything seemed just _too funny!_

"Tyrion," she heard Genna whisper to her husband, "I think it's time for her to stop. Take her back to her chambers before she puked upon us all."

"No!" Sansa heard herself suddenly exclaim, "I'm perfectly fine!"

Both laughed at the mumble of her words.

"Come along now, wife." Tyrion said shaking his head with a smile as he took her hand to help her stand.

Sansa tripped right on spot and almost crushed Tyrion finding balance on his shoulders. Placing a hand on her waist and another tangled with hers upon his shoulder, Tyrion led her out of his chambers to hers. Once they reached her rooms, Sansa fell hard against the floor as soon a stye doors opened.

The fall did not hurt at all. If anything, it sent funny tickling shocks throughout her body making her laugh histerically and unladylike.

"My lady!" Tyrion exclaimed running to bring her back from the stone floor. Kneeling by her side, he placed a hand behind her neck with a worried look on his face.

The wine and ale had made her feel stupid, yet also alarmingly brave. Sansa placed her pale hand on Tyrion's cheek and rubbed her thumb along his scar. And she smiled childishly.

"You know, I've always loved the way you call me 'my lady'."

And when she looked at him in the eye, only then she realized how close her face was to his, and she suddenly sobered. Her drinks had clouded much of her reason only making room enough for her feelings. And with a glance down to his lips, she knew what she wanted.

But then, her tummy growled and turned and sent acid up her throat.

"Tyrion I–" she said, never finishing her sentence as she ran towards the privy in her bathroom.

One hour had already gone by and Tyrion was still holding Sansa's auburn locks of heir as she vomited into the privy.

"I am sorry, Tyrion. This so embarrassing. What shame lady I am. You shouldn't see me like this. But thank you, you too kind." Sansa mumbled apologies and gratitudes as she had been doing for this entire time, barely making any sense out of what she said.

And Tyrion laughed softly every time, running his blunt through her hair and cleaning his wife's chin with his handkerchief.

"Oh silly Sansa…" he said with a smile. "Are you done yet?"

She nodded like a child. "I think I am done now."

"Are you sure? Because the three last times you said so you came immediately running back to the privy."

"This time I am done for true, I think. Gods I feel awful."

"Well," chuckled Tyrion, "at least you won't end up sleeping with the dogs or anything."

Sansa laughed and winked, "And I have my protective husband to thank for that."

Tyrion's breath hitched at that. He knew Sansa was under the effect of wine, that she would never call him so when sober. But still hearing her address him as 'husband' was wholesome enough to warm his little heart.

"Come now, my lady," he said helping Sansa stand from the bathroom floor, "you need to rest."

And with a nod, she followed him back into her room. While Sansa busied herself behind her divider changing into her night clothes, Tyrion brought a wooden bucket from the bathroom and placed it by Sansa's bed.

"Sansa," he said calling to his wife as she came into view, "if you feel like vomiting again in your sleep, I've placed a bucket here so you don't have to go all the way to the privy. And please, try not to sleep on your back, else you night choke in your own puke."

"Are you not staying, Tyrion?" Sansa replied all of a sudden down on her knees in front of him to match his height.

_Oh, this woman is certainly the death of me_.

"No, my lady. You need to rest on your own now. And I don't think you'd like me by your side when all these memories come back to you tomorrow morning."

"But isn't a wife permitted to have her husband by her side?" She replied faking hurt and fluttering her eyelids rapidly in japing beg.

Tyrion looked to the floor scoffing a laugh, and then noticed tahta Sansa had put her nightgown on backwards.

"Oh, silly Sansa."

"You were the one who said you would only come to my bed when I want you to. Well, I am asking you now."

It was too big of a temptation. Everything he wanted the most in this world was right in front of him, he only needed to grasp it. But Tyrion also knew Sansa was not in her best condition. And though it was far too tempting, he would never disrespect his wife like that. He loved her too much for it.

"Not when you are drunk." He replied in a funny tone bopping the tip of her nose with his finger making her giggle. The sound of her laughter boiled his blood to the heart. "Another day, mayhaps. When my _conscious_ wife asks me so."

By the way she was looking at him, Tyrion was truly surprised he didn't accept her offer. She looked so pretty under the candlelight. But that only brought a bitter smile to his face. How could it ever be that such a beautiful woman was now chained to his disfigured self?

"Hey…" Sansa said lost in thoughts inspecting his face as if she had found something in him she had never seen before. She placed a hand on his cheek which grew warm at her touch. "You are very handsome, my Lord…"

For a brief moment, his heart stopped from beating and his tummy jumped all the way up to his throat. His mouth hung open in unbelievable surprise, and he noticed that her cheeks were blushing a shade of red brighter than before.

A smile played about her lips and her eyes glowed with innocent sweetness. He wanted to kiss her, then. To place a hand under her chin and bring her lips to his. To worship her. His wife. His goddess. And never let her go.

But a chuckle was the only thing he could manage. "Oh, my lady. Now you truly are speaking nonsense. Goodnight, Sansa. Sleep well."

With a soft and tender kiss on her forehead, Tyrion meant to make his way out of the room, but was stopped with a sudden and sweetest kiss from his wife on his cheek.

"Goodnight, Tyrion. Thank you."

Walking back to his chambers, Tyrion never let his hand part from his cheek as if trying to keep Sansa's kiss there forever.

As soon as he closed his doors behind him, he ran in quick steps to his bed jumping upon it and stared at the canopy with a foolish smile.

He could hold his feelings back no longer. He needed to confess his love to Sansa Stark. And he needed to do it soon…


	12. Festival

One week had already gone by and Sansa still felt embarrassed to the bone for how drunk she had been that night. Her memories were still blurry, but from the glimpses she had recovered, she remembered Tyrion's face quite too close from hers.

Had they kissed? She couldn't remember, her memory of that day were nothing more than flashes now. What if she did? _Oh gods, what if she did?!_ No, she knew Tyrion very well and he would never do that without her complete and sober consent. Still, the idea of it made her tummy jump and her breath hitch. She might not have kissed him, yet she was not entirely sure she would never want to. He was the kindest man she knew and he always made her feel loved. But she was to afraid to feel anything like that at all. With a shake of her head, she left all those thoughts behind.

Tonight, the Festival of the Mother was taking place in Lannisport, and Sansa needed her mind focused on reading herself for it. She needed to look more than beautiful, for even more people would be at the city than the first time she visited, and as Lady of the Rock she needed to make the best impression possible.

Her auburn hair was curled in thick Lannister curls with her front locks braided to the back of her head into a rose-shaped style. Her gown was golden with some details embroidered in red along her skirts. The tone reminded her much of her wedding dress, yet this gown couldn't be any more different from any dress she had ever worn before. Instead of the high collars she was used to, the gown fell down her neck in a "V" like a robe. A wide sash-like red belt was wrapped around her torso and tied with a simple knot at her back. Her skirts fell just above her feet, and her long sleeves displayed a lion and a wolf embroidered at each arm. And of course, her pendant rested proud against her neck.

"My lady," one of her handmaidens said as she entered Sansa's chambers. "Lord Tyrion sent me to tell you that the carriages are ready and waiting for you."

"Tell them I'm making my way down now." Sansa ordered and her maid left her room with a bow. And Sansa followed immediately.

Tyrion was waiting for her by their carriage, and the mere sight of him brought a shy and childish smile to her face. Though she was still too embarrassed to look him in the eye, it was always a joy to see him.

He was looking undeniably handsome. His hair was brushed back, his curls tamed to the end of his neck. He was wearing the cloak she had made for him for his name day, and a golden doublet that matched her dress underneath. Kissing her hand, Tyrion led Sansa into their carriage.

They reached Lannisport when the sun was only a few inches shy from touching the sea. The chanting seagulls were already flying back to their nests and the winds kindly brushed past Sansa's pale face carrying the familiar scent of salt she has now grown very fond of.

It was barely possible to walk down the main avenue of the city without stepping on or being stepped by someone's foot. There were too many people concentrated on Lannisport's entrance that Sansa found it hard to breathe. Yet when Tyrion, who never let go of her hand, turned to the smaller streets, she could finally appreciate the beauty of the festival.

Colored paper lanterns hung from roof to roof above the streets, giving the a colorful and surreal look. The smell of roast beef and fish filled the air as many small wooden stands of food stood on the sidewalks selling meals to all attendants. The people walking were smiling and laughing, eating meat on a stick and honeyed apples, or carrying the prizes they might have won or stolen from the festival games. And they all bowed to Sansa and Tyrion as they walked past them.

She and Tyrion never ceased to talk and jape throughout their entire time walking along the streets of Lannisport. They played every stand game they could find until Tyrion's bag of coins ran out and Sans teased him ceaselessly because he could only beat her once.

"I was, of course, giving you advantage, my lady." he had excused himself.

But that only made her laugh out loud. "Sure, I believe you, Tyrion!"

And he turned to her faking hurt. "Sarcasm doesn't suit you, Sansa."

Yet they both laughed all the same. And he squeezed her hand making a shock run from her fingers to her heart turning her cheeks red.

The prayers to the Mother were sang by the Septon of the Westerlands in the main plaza of the city, and Sansa solemnly joined the crowd, praying for the family she had lost, the one she has now, and the one she might one day build.

The firework show came afterwards, lighting up the city with flashing colors. Some fireworks even took shapes, and Sansa gasped marveled as she spotted a lion, a dragon, and many other animals forming up in the sky like stars. She smiled with her face tilted up, praying that this memory would live with her forever.

As the show was nearing its end, Sansa felt Tyrion reach for her hand again.

"Come, my lady," he said softly, "I want to show you something."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay?" She asked with her eyebrows knit together, confused with his sudden need to leave. "They say it is almost over, shan't we wait?"

"If we wait until the end the crowd would grow crazy and we might not reach there in time. Besides, I don't want to risk people following us."

"But where are we going?"

He leaned closer to her, "Do you trust me, Sansa?"

There was something about the way he said that that made her breath hitch. But she had not a single doubt about her answer. With a gulp, she nodded.

With a wide smile, Tyrion led her through the crowd. And she was quick to notice how his feet were almost jumping in excitement. Squeezing through the sea of people, Sansa and Tyrion finally managed to make it out f the plaza. The streets were almost empty, except from the merchants who were looking over their stands, so they found their way rapidly.

And once Tyrion stopped, Sans noticed where he had taken her.

"This is the same bench we sat on while looking at the sunset the first time I visited here." Sansa said with a surprised smile, and Tyrion nodded.

But she noticed that this time, the ships were not lit up like that other night so long ago from now. And she raised a suspicious eyebrow.

"My lady," said Tyrion extending his hand to her, "sit with me."

Taking it, Sansa took a seat next to him. This time not keeping the icy distance she had the time before. And neither of them said a word, both staring into the void darkness of the sea at night.

Suddenly, a light came from the distance flying up to the high skies. And Sansa straightened her back in curious surprise.

"What's that?" she asked Tyrion without moving her eyes from the light, yet he replied nothing.

It shone yellow and solitary against the black background, and when she turned to him to ask him again, Sansa noticed that more than a thousand of lanterns were rising from the city. And with a gasp, she couldn't fight the urge to stand up.

The lanterns were glowing with warm shades of orange and yellow from the flames hidden within them. And against the dark sky they all looked as constellations brought to life. Sansa laughed in wonder, her face lighting up under the lanterns above. Turning around, she noticed that a thousand more of them were coming from the sea, and they all joined high up in the air, their fires dancing as they were swept by the winds.

Sansa, for some reason, felt the need to cry. What was happening before her eyes was pure beauty. She once had thought that beauty laid in tales of chivalry, in the Queen and Joffrey, but they all were lies. She knew better now. She knew that it could be found in something as simple as a flame hidden behind a paper lantern. Or in the kindness of those who love you.

That brought her gaze down to Tyrion, and she noticed that he had never taken his eyes away from her. Her heart skipped a beat.

"Sansa…" he said. His voice low and deep.

He seemed at loss of words which was unusual for him, so she sat next to him again, some why nervous for what he might say.

"Iー..." he stuttered, and Sansa felt herself growing anxious. "I've wanted to tell you this for a long while now. I think it was fear and shame holding me back, but I can't keep this to myself anymore."

He took her hand in his, and Sansa's tummy fluttered.

"Sansa, you are the reason I've learned how to feel again. I think you and I both know now how harmful feelings can be. They fill our heads with high hopes and false illusions that fog our eyes from who we truly have in front of us. Long had I given up on hope… But you have brought it back to me. You reminded me of what it is truly like to give _everything _to someone just because your heart genuinely wants to. You make me want to be a better man.

"And gods, you make me feel like a child! Making my chest rise with unbearable emotion when I think of you and I smile like a fool at night when I dream of you. I've always been a reserved man, always keeping what I feel to myself. But I just can't hide this from you, Sansa."

She noticed his eyes were trembling with doubt and fear, yet there was honesty like no other shining within them.

"I love you." he said.

And her world turned upside down.

He pursed his lips and gulped. "I'm sorry if this sounds too sudden, but I needed to say this. The burden in my chest was too heavy for me to bear any longer." He looked up to her and Sansa melted in his eyes. "I love you."

_So he feels a burden in his chest too? Does my weight mean the same?_

Sansa did not know what in the Seven Heavens to now say. She opened her mouth yet no words came. He was right, this was quite sudden and unexpected… Then why part of her felt relieved from hearing him say so?

Not knowing what else to do, Sansa leaned herself to him and hugged him in the warmest embrace she could ever give. She held him tight against her and buried her face on the crook of his neck. He placed a kiss on the top of her head and ran his fingers through her hair. _Nothing in the world has ever felt more right than this_, she thought. And they remained in each other's arms for a lifetime.

The lanterns were flying higher in the sky when Sansa meant to straighten herself from Tyrion's embrace. But with her cheek brushing close past his, she found herself staring at his face, closer than never before.

Her heart beat as fast as a war drum, and when she noticed his eyes glancing down to her lips, she knew what was now happening.

Joffrey's kiss was a cold crime against this one.

Tyrion's lips met hers with kind warmth and gently remained against hers for a while. Sansa felt her tummy flutter. It was as if her face was ideally meant to fit his. She thought of two puzzle pieces that had finally been linked together. He parted his lips, then, and deepened the kiss.

Sansa felt Tyrion reach under her chin with his palm, and his face stood taller than hers as she bent under his kiss. She arched her eyebrows down, her soul swarmed with too many emotions, and hr hands found their own path to his hair.

Nothing had ever felt so right…

Then why did she part herself from him?

"Tyrion… Iー" she said, her voice trembling and her eyes watering. "I'm sorry."

Not giving him the chance to say a thing, Sansa gathered her skirts and ran away from the port. The streets were filled with people again who were looking up to the lanterns. As she ran past them with her face all teared up, she gained some suspicious looks, But she did not care. All she could feel was the storm of feelings that had formed up in her soul.

Turning to an empty alley, Sansa let herself fall to her knees, for she was too weak to even stand. And she cried, and cried, and cried. Her sobs loud and her tears running as a waterfall.

_Why am I such a coward? _She told herself, _Why can't I stop running? Why can't I embrace what I feel?... Have I_ー _Have I forgotten how to love?_

Miserable as she was, she brought her knees to her chest and curled into a ball against the wall.

And she cried.


	13. Three Times I love You

Her eyes were heavy from a sleepless night and from all the tears she shed as she tossed across her bed, her head swarmed with too many thoughts to give them up for dreams.

The skies were clearing up making path for the new morning, but Sansa was not yet ready to face anyone knowing she would not be able to talk without crying. Her soul was too moved to do anything at all. And all was because she was afraid of the simplest thing a heart can do. Afraid to love.

She felt as if no one could understand her, even a part of her thought she was being ridiculous. It was her own husband sharing his love for her, for the Seven's sake! He must have gathered all the courage within him to tell her so, and inconsiderate as always she had run away. Didn't she ever give a thought to how that might have hurt him?

_Oh stupid girl, _she told herself, _now you have to bear with having hurt him too…_

She wanted to tell him that he was not the reason she had run away. He was kind, and flawless in his own way. He was smart, witty and funny, and had never done her any wrong. But she was confused. Her heart was still covered by thick walls of stone, and she didn't know if she would ever feel anything at all again.

Before her handmaidens could come to bring the fast to her chambers, Sansa covered herself with a night robe and stepped out of her room. The Rock was lit by a pale shade of blue, as the sun was rising opposite from the sea. It wasn't too cold, yet she felt a bitter shiver run past her. Playing with the pendant on her neck, lost in thoughts, she let her feet guide her on their own accord.

She found herself now in the Hall of the Lords of the Rock. Why, of course, this place was more holy to her now than the godswood or the Sept. This was her sanctuary, her refuge. The place where alone, she felt accompanied. And she went to her usual spot, sitting in front of the portrait of Lady Joanna.

As soon as Sansa sat against the marble floor, she broke into tears again, and laid her back against the cold tiles covering her eyes with her forearm over her face.

She felt alone and desperate, the pain in her chest was too heavy for her to bear. She liked to think she was resilient as her lady mother, and brave as Robb, but right now? She felt nothing more than a miserable, pathetic and scared little bird. No one would be able to understand her, not even Genna, but her heart has hurt her so much in the past by loving others. The risk was far too big for her to make it. She was sure Tyrion would never mean her wrong, he had vowed to her so many times. But still…

_Still what, my child?_ That strange voice spoke inside her mind again, louder than ever before.

Sansa straightened her back in surprise, her shock drying her tears, her eyes meeting Lady Joanna's in the painting.

"I–... I don't know..."

_Sweet girl_, the voice said kindly, _it is past time you stop running from your feelings. You've been evading your heart for so long that you have not given yourself the time to realize how you feel for him. _

"It's just–" Sansa said out loud, pouting like a hurt child and her eyes watering again. "I am just too afraid to be hurt once more."

_Oh my sweet girl_, said the voice. And Sansa felt as if it's words were hugging her as a mother would. _I know... But you must stop thinking for a while and listen to your heart. You are troubling yourself with thoughts that only cause you further confusion. One does not love with the mind, Sansa. You need to see through here. _

At that, Sansa felt a pressure on her chest just below her pendant, where her heart was.

"How... How do I do that?"

_By risking, my sweet girl. I know it is too much to ask, but that is what love requires. If you never risk a thing, you will gain nothing in this life. _

"So... Should I tell him?"

_Is that what you truly feel in your heart? Love for him?_

"Yes." Sansa replied firmly, and doubt rested in her tongue no more.

_Then you should tell him. And you should tell him now. _

Yet her feet were unwilling to move. Maybe she just needed a little bit more encouragement.

"Isn't it too late already? He must hate me by now, and won't listen to me. What if he turns me down?"

_Oh silly Sansa, she felt the voice laugh in her mind, my son loves you too much to turn you down as you have._

"I know..." said Sansa, and dropped her gaze to the floor. But suddenly, she opened her eyes widely and raised them in shock to the picture in front of her. "Wait. Your son?! ... You–... I–..." She gulped, "Lady Joanna?"

Sansa was sure now, she had completely lost her mind. Fantastic! She was not only sick with love but also mad! She heard the voice laugh again inside her head, a laugh as sweet and funny as Tyrion's, and the eyes of the painting glowed green with life.

_Go now, my child. And remember, it is only with the heart that one can see right. Love is invisible to the eye. _

Smiling with a nod, she left the hall. She found it funny, she had never once met Lady Joanna and had very little reason to have a connection with her, yet Sansa felt as if she had known the woman forever. As if she was family. Tyrion is my husband, she thought, she might as well be.

Running now towards Tyrion's chambers, she sent a prayer to the Mother, for her to keep the spirit of Lady Joanna safe up in the Seven Heavens and to guide her now in what she needed to say.

Once she reached his doors with her breath racing from running, Sansa felt her heart jump to her throat in doubt.

No. I won't hesitate. Never again.

And so she knocked the heavy wooden doors that led to Tyrion's chambers. But no reply came. It was still too early, he might still be sleeping. Yet she couldn't wait a second longer. She needed to say it all now. So she knocked again.

And this time, Tyrion was quick to open.

"My lady." he said. Sansa noticed he didn't look sleepy at all, and his breath held the scent of wine. But he didn't look quite drunk either. Her tummy fluttered. "What can I help you with?"

His voice was cold and attempted to be cruel. He was trying to hide behind an armor like she once had. But Sansa knew her man better, and only she could get him out of it before it was too late.

"Tyrion." she said with a confidence like no other. Where was she gathering all this courage from? _You are a Lannister and a Stark, you can be brave._ "I need to tell you something.

"Sansa, I don't think–"

"_Please._"

She was not going to take no for an answer, and Tyrion must have realized that once he finally looked up to her to meet her eyes, for he let her in without further argue.

Sansa remained on her feet when Tyrion closed the door behind him.

"Sansa, what do you want?" Tyrion asked, his voice tired.

He looked hurt in sorrow, his eyes red from tears and a restless night. In her eyes, he seemed as a harmed child in need of a hug. It pained her so to see him like this, and she couldn't wait to take all the sadness she has caused him away.

"I wanted to, first of all, apologize." she said. "I have been nothing but ungrateful and selfish towards you, Tyrion. I've only thought of how confused I felt never minding how much I might have been hurting you by turning you away. I am your wife, I vowed to protect you and look at me now. But I want you to know that I never meant you any harm. So all I can say now, is I'm sorry."

And right before her eyes she saw how his newly built walls crumbled. She noticed his chest rising with the hitch of a breath and his eyes grow glassy.

"Is that all you came here to say?" he asked trying to keep his voice from cracking. But he failed.

"No." she replied, a smile somehow playing about her lips. And she let herself down to her knees to match his height and placed a hand across his cheek. He pursed his lips. "I also wanted you to know that I was too afraid to let you in because I didn't want to be hurt again. Love has harmed me so, that I stopped believing in it. I've seen how it filled my head with false realities. I've seen evil men and women use it to manipulate others and people, like my very own brother, lose their heads for it. So I kept it aside and turned my heart to stone.

"But I don't want that anymore. Because if I cease to believe in love, if I refuse to believe the love I have for you, why would I ever want to live?"

Tyrion turned pale at that. "The love you have… _for me_?"

"I love you." She whispered, and placed her forehead against his.

Tyrion took a step back, his eyes wide in disbelief. But Sansa smiled. She smiled wider than ever before. The burden in her chest was now gone and her heart could flutter freely. Returning her hand to his bearded cheek, she brought him closer to her again.

"I love you." she said once more. Louder. Meaning each and every word.

His eyebrows arched and his eyes filled with tears. Sighing a smile, he placed his forehead against hers again.

"Sansa?"

"I love you." she said a third time, the knot in her heart now completely loose. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Placing a kiss on his forehead, then one on his cheek, Sansa stopped to meet the green eyes of her husband. And when her heart melted at first sight, she knew she had no longer a single doubt that could hold her back from his lips.

And she kissed him as naturally as if she had done it a thousand times before. She wrapped her arms about his neck and her hand traveled to his curls while his wandered down her back. And she smiled against his lips. Did it really take them this long to realize they belonged to each other?

_One flesh, one heart, one soul._

After what seemed like and eternity of kissing, Sansa paused to look at Tyrion's eyes again, those green hues that had driven her madly in love with him.

"I love you, and that's it." she said tenderly, wiping a curl from his forehead and caressing his cheek with her other hand. "I don't care if it's not the right thing. I don't care if it might cause problems because I'll have you by my side. Now and Forever. So I now say it and I say it loud. _I love you._"

"You know, it is not gonna be easy. Love never is. We're gonna have to work at this everyday." said Tyrion.

"But I wanna do that because I want you."

He breathed in deeply through his nose, and Sansa noticed that he was trying to find some lie within her words with his eyes. But she breathed with relief when he finally smiled.

"Then we'll be alright. We'll go from there."

And they embraced each other, and cried some tears of joy.

"Never let me go, Sansa." he said with a weak voice, "never hide from me again."

She kissed his forehead at that, and then returned to her place at the crook of his neck. "Never again, my husband, my love."

They laughed, and cried and kissed until their legs ached from standing and their arms felt numb from hugging for so long. But Sansa didn't mind the pain.

She was now the happiest woman of them all.


	14. Heirs to the Rock

The morning was calm and warm, the breeze from the Sunset Sea kindly entered through the window they had left open the night before, making its curtains dance into the air. The sun rays of the morning were piercing in through too, resting on Sansa's pale face. Her eyes were heavy with sleep and half of her mind was still in her dreams. Trying to force her eyelids open, she shaped the silhouette of Tyrion between her lashes and immediately smiled to herself, extending an arm to him and rolling on their bed to cuddle closer to him.

She kissed his back and the end of his neck, he always used to sleep without a shirt and on his belly. And he groaned half asleep, as he always did when Sansa woke him up with kisses. She rested her face right in front of his and played with his beard trying to call his attention.

"Is it morning already?" he asked lazily, his voice tired and heavy.

"Yes, my love." replied Sansa with a small kiss on his lips. "We should be getting up and ready for the fast."

"Mmm." he said and wrapped her between his arms. "No."

Sansa pinched his stomach and he laughed. "What do you mean 'No'? You lay Lord of the Rock."

"Exactly." said Tyrion kissing Sansa along her neck tickling her ear with his beard making her laugh her tiredness away. "I am the Lord of the Rock and I command an entire day abed. Now, go back to sleep."

"Tyrion." Sansa laughed as her husband closed his eyes again.

"Shh, Sansa." he replied extending a blind finger to her lips. "That was an order."

"And since when has my husband abused of his power this much?" she asked playfully kissing his palm and laying closer to him.

"Since he wants to spend this pleasant day worshiping his wife in bed." said Tyrion waking up a little to kiss her cheeks and her lips and her neck, pinning her against the white feathered pillows on her back. And she smiled pulling his head closer to her.

After kissing and japing and tickling, Tyrion rested on his back to catch his breath and Sansa followed him placing her head against his bare chest. She closed her eyes and smiled, carefully listening to the fast beating of his heart.

The rays of the sun were growing inside their chambers and the silver Dornish bedcover he had bought for her at Lannisport ll that time ago shone underneath them.

The morning was very calm indeed… until of course…

"Mother! Father!" four little voices said loud in unison bursting the wooden doors open in a loud 'boom'.

Tyrion closed his eyes with a sigh letting his head fall back and Sansa laughed against his chest. No one had ever mentioned them how exhausting being a parent could grow to be.

Their little children came running to their bed in quick and excited steps. All laughing and screaming with that joy the received every morning with.

"Careful with Mama's belly." Sansa warned her kids as they jumped up next to her and Tyrion. "And be gentle with your father, he's in a lazy mood today."

"He is always in a lazy mood!" Little Eddard protested sitting between both of his parents.

"That is a lie." Tyrion said raising a finger. Yet a big yawn proved him very much wrong.

"No it isn't, Father!" Joanna giggled cuddling next to Tyrion while he covered her in loud kisses.

"Mama!" Gwynei exclaimed diving into Sansa's arms. "You promised to take us all to Lannisport today."

"You did! You did!" Tylos added with a nod. "And Father promised he'd take me sailing!"

"Oh, did he?" Sansa asked eyeing her husband and he returned her a guilty smile. She rolled her eyes and brushed some curls of Tylos' forehead to place a kiss on her youngest's forehead.

"Are you excited for your first ride on a boat, little brother?" Eddard asked Tylos and mussed up his hair.

And Sansa looked at all four of her children with all the tenderness a mother could have. Little Eddard, her eldest, was born with the blond curls and fine features of any Lannister. But he had the grey Stark eyes and long face of her father, whom he was named after. Joanna followed the year after, and as Sansa, she had become a lady at three. She was the beauty of Casterly Rock, and had already mastered the art of needlework and the harp. But she was, without a doubt, the kindest of them all and was quick to befriend any stranger.

Gwynei came next, and although she was the one who resembled Sansa the most with her auburn hair and Tully blue eyes, she couldn't be anymore different than her. There was so much about Arya in her, always talking about adventures and playing more with swords than both of her brothers combined. If one didn't keep a careful eye on her, she'd find a way to cover herself in sand and mud, and smile at you mischievously. Tylos, who had just turned three, was her youngest boy. His curls were more a dirty than a Lannister blonde, and his eyes were the same green as his father's. And he was certainly Tyrion's mirror, always sneaking into the library to read books with him and cherishing his wooden dragon toys the most.

"Well, let's go then, Father!" said Gwynei squeezing from Sansa's arms to try to drag Tyrion from bed making her siblings giggle.

"What's all this noise about?!" A playful voice suddenly called from the door making the entire family turn in surprise.

"Auntie Genna!" the four of them exclaimed at the same time and immediately jumped out of bed to greet the old lioness.

Sansa straightened her back against the headboard and smiled to how her little children all tried to hug Genna at once.

Genna's face was now covered in wrinkles and her blonde curls were turning silver white. Most of her fat was gone now leaving skinny veiny arms instead. And though she always pretended to be fine and strong, Sansa could see how her body was growing weak with age.

"What were the four of you thinking waking your parents with those loud little voices of yours, huh?" Lady Genna asked playfully messing up the hairs of her nieces and nephews, and they giggled under her touch. "You almost woke the entire castle up!"

"Auntie Genna," Tylos said pulling her skirts, "Mother and Father promised to take us to Lannisport today!"

"Yeah, we're gonna go sailing!" Little Eddard added with a thumbs up.

"Is that so?" Genna asked, "Well, then we better get you all ready. Come now, the last one to reach their chambers is a Frey."

And at that, Sansa's children went off running away like little ducklings down the corridor. And Genna stood watching her and Tyrion with an arched eyebrow and a hand on her hip.

"Sometimes I don't know if the two of you are the greatest or the laziest lords." Genna said and Sansa laughed burying her face on Tyrion's chest feeling him laugh too.

She turned to her old friend to wink at her as she left their chambers and they were left alone in peaceful silence again.

"We have our hands full with the four of them, don't we?" Tyrion asked Sansa placing a kiss on top of her head and running his fingers through her hair.

And she turned to him with a playful smile on her lips and a blush on her cheeks.

"What if I tell you there's one more to come?"

And his eyes widened, his hand dropped from her hair and his mouth hung open in surprise as it had the past four times.

"You're pregnant."

She nodded smiling and her husband laughed.

Kissing, Tyrion smiled against her lips and promised everything would be alright.

Soft and slowly, the days, months and years passed, and Casterly Rock stood as proud atop the sea as it always had. Tyrion and Sansa had filled the castle with their children, bringing the Rock back to its former glory with heirs and two happily married leaders.

Her children believed themselves too old now for her goodnight kisses and hugs. Even Catelyn, her youngest daughter. Still, every now and then, they'd come in tears to her room seeking for her counsel.

And though many were the years that had gone by between them, Sansa's love for Tyrion never faded. If anything, it grew stronger at each passing day. Her husband had remained by her side always, and was the most supportive and faithful. Their duties in the castle had not grown easier with time, but both had managed to always find time for each other in spite of how worn off from work they were.

Tyrion was still beating Sansa at every Cyvasse game and she never grew used to more than three cups of wine before blushing drunk. And in rare peaceful nights, both would sneak to the private beach feeling as wicked as two young rebel lovers to look up to the constellations. And, on most of those occasions, make love under the night sky.

She had taken her children to the Festival of the Mother at Lannisport many times now, and as the lanterns went flying up to the sky, Tyrion would always tell their kids of how their mother had once broken his heart there. And Sansa would laugh and kiss her husband, her children yucking.

Even though she never heard the voice of Lady Joanna again, Sansa never took the golden pendant off her neck, and visited the Hall of the Lords of the Rock more regularly than the Sept; that now had her portrait and Tyrion's included. She would go and look at the portrait of Joanna as dearly as she would look at her own mother. Sometimes, her children would sneak into the hall with her sometimes and Sansa told them tales about her.

Everyone in the Rock now recognized her as good of a Lady as Joanna once was. They looked up to Sansa with such respect and admiration. The first time she had been brought to the castle from King's Landing, she wasn't sure she'd ever be able to fulfill her role. Not even after Genna's many lessons did she feel ready. But she always smiled looking back to all those years at how much she had grown, and wouldn't deny she now felt very proud of herself. Though she still had to work on the jealousy she felt at each woman who crossed her husband.

The three little Lannister lords who Sansa once called children now had children of their own. Lanna and Janei married two high lords and brought them to live in Casterly Rock, while Lucion was now the captain of the Lannister armada. Tyrek had proven to be so clever and strong that he was granted the title of General of the entire Lannister army. Though they were all grown now, the three of them would always look as children in Sansa's eyes.

Eddard was the first of her children to marry at the age of nine and ten. A Dornish Princess of a lovely face and kind character he had met on their trip to Sunspear. Both had been quick to give Sansa her first grandchild, Gideon, a healthy boy of blonde curls. Sansa had missed being a mother, and having a baby back in her arms was the most wholesome she could ask for. And by the way Tyrion played with the little boy, she could tell he felt the same way too.

Joanna married the following year to a Lord of House Swyft, and remained living in the Rock as well. She birthed two boy twins on her first labor and a premature girl on her second. Lady Genna did not live to see Sansa's fourth grandchild born and the castle dressed in black for almost two months in her memory.

When the first wrinkles began to appear on Sansa's face, Tyrion's hair was almost completely covered in silver grey. And soon enough, her own auburn locks began to turn pale and white.

"We're getting old." Tyrion had told her once when they were both getting into bed. There had been a smile on his face yet bitterness in his tone, and all Sansa could do that night was kiss her husband's white bearded cheek.

Catelyn married too, and though Tylos had traveled to the Citadel to become a maester, he ended up finding a wife and returned with her to Casterly Rock, where they had four children. Despite how reluctant Gwynei had been to grant any man her hand, following her uncle Tyrek here and there training as a soldier, in one of her many adventures she found herself falling for a Tyrell commander, and would not listen to anyone who spoke against her marriage.

By the time Gwynei's firstborn daughter came to life, Tyrion was finding it very hard to stand on his own. His knees trembled weak with age to the point that he could no longer walk anywhere without taking Sansa by the arm for support. She was patient and always happy to help him, but she was growing old too, her arms had lost the strength of her youth. Both of their skins were growing baggy and dotted. Although time had been quite kind to Sansa and Tyrion, her hair was beginning to fall and his scar was now hidden under his wrinkles.

Still, they were blessed with a big, healthy and happy family. They shared dinner almost every night with their five children and _ten_ grandkids. And Tyrion would always turn to Sansa on the table with a childish smile and whisper

"Look, my love, we made them all."

No matter how wrinkled and old and grey, she would always love her little husband.

But everything eventually comes to an end.

Tyrion passed away one night peacefully in his sleep, greeting death in the kindest of ways. And though she was not wrapping her mouth about his cock; yes he had shared with her his pervert wish, Sansa had remained by his side until the very end. She had known that day would come at some point. Even so, when it finally did, her tears did not cease to fall for an entire day and night.

No one should ever live to see the person they love the most being buried.

His funeral had been carried away outside the castle on a cold windy morning after the procession in the Sept. With eyes of stone on his face, Sansa kissed her husband goodbye on his forehead for one last time before his body was taken to the ground and his soul up to the Seven Heavens.

Her sons and daughters, as well as her grandchildren, had been by her side that day. All wearing black gowns and sad pouting faces. The banners of House Lannister were black too, and even the skies were dark and foggy with heavy clouds that threatened rain.

Sansa had been leaning on the shoulders of Lanei, her youngest grandchild. It was difficult for her to walk. Out of all her grandchildren, Lanei had been the only one born with auburn hair and Tully eyes.

"Grandma Sansa," the young girl had turned to ask her as the funeral ended. "I don't think I can live in a world without Grandpapa."

Sansa had squeezed her shoulders kindly at that, and gave her a wrinkled smile.

"But he's not gone." she whispered in her weak old voice. She always had to be the strongest for her family, specially in the saddest times. "He's here now with us, moving around us. And he'll live forever with us."

"Live forever? How can you say that, Nana? What do you mean?"

"Love, my child. It will forever live with us. As long us we don't forget him, the love we had for him, your grandfather will never be truly gone."

"Did you… _really _love Grandpapa?"

Sansa had been taken a little by surprise, but she remembered she smiled and leaned closer to her granddaughter as if telling her the biggest secret in the world.

"Utterly, madly and profoundly."

And when Sansa had raised her head to the skies, golden rays of sun were piercing through the black clouds.

_Tyrion,_ she had thought, _I know you are not here with me anymore. That I now have to remain walking under a different sky than yours, breathe another air and listen to a distinct wind. I must remain here a while longer, but promise you will wait for me, for I will one day go. Even so, our love forever shall live. It will always be with us. It is our story… Please… wait for me…_

Her sons had to carry her back to the castle that day, as she collapsed in tears against the damp grass.

After a couple of years leading the Rock with the help of her children, she fell gravely ill. She could barely move from her bed and she spoke more coughs than words. The most expert of Maesters had treated her, but it was no good.

Eventually, Sansa's time came too. Her two sons and three daughters had been with her in her chambers the moment she went away. They had cried, and kissed her, and squeezed her hands begging her not to go. With no energy left, a smile was the last thing she managed to do. And as the image of her beautiful children began to blur, she closed her eyes…

_Sansa_, she heard the voice of her mother call.

And when she opened them again, a white light shone brightly against her face like a flash. Lady Catelyn and Lord Eddard received her with a warm embrace. They looked far younger than how she remembered them, but cried at their sight all the same. Robb was there too, and smiled as gracefully as her memory recalled.

She wasn't sure where she was, some sort of white bright hall with no ceiling, where one could openly see the rose gold clouds of a sky. She walked further down the hall and found Lady Genna. Sansa covered her old friend with kisses hugging her tightly and noticed that she here looked exactly like her young portrait back at Casterly Rock. She motioned Sansa to go further down, and she did as bid.

Even without having met her in the flesh, Sansa almost sprinted towards Lady Joanna embracing her kindly. She planted a soft kiss on Sansa's forehead and told her to go further too.

And so she ran following this unknown path. Her legs feeling strong, her skin without a trace of wrinkles and her tummy fluttering. When she reached the end, she found her husband waiting for her with that smile of his.

He looked young and handsome, and Sansa lost her breath at his sight, tears forming quickly upon her eyes. She fell down to her knees and hid her face between the arms of her little man.

He extended a hand to her. She hesitated for a moment, but one look at his eyes was enough to take any doubt away. She reached out for his hand with hers, and everything that surrounded her faded into glittering dust. Even herself.

And Sansa and Tyrion became to more stars in the sky…

Who would have thought that such a tender tale of love could come from the wolf and lion of Casterly Rock?

_FIN_


End file.
